His Little Star
by LittleMulattoKitten
Summary: Once upon a time, one of God's children demanded free will. Millennia after, He's still ashamed of how the situation took place and hesitates to interfere with his son's life as a result. Until Cain almost costs Samael everything. God just didn't count on being convinced to reconcile with his son in the process. Picks up from the S3 finale. M for themes. Eventual Deckerstar. H/C.
1. Shattering the Son

Contrary to popular belief, God never intentionally favored any of his children over the others.

And despite what some of his offspring believed, his affection for humanity didn't hold a candle to how he felt about his celestial creations.

But having feelings and expressing them properly were two skills that many never mastered even without the added struggles of omnipotence and a sinisterly abusive ex-wife.

Still, God could only shift so much of the blame away. He wasn't perfect by any means. He made mistakes.

Like favoring one of his children slightly more than the rest.

It wasn't a conscious decision. He loved all of his children equally, of that he was certain, but he _liked_ some much more than others. Having coexisted with so many being for so many millennia, God supposed it couldn't be helped that he wouldn't enjoy every single one of his offsprings' personalities.

He may have been a miracle worker (sometimes), but that fell outside the realm of plausibility - even for him. Unfortunately, it often seemed as though reconciling with his brightest creation was also out of reach.

Samael had always stood out amongst his siblings. His wings were the brightest of all his children's. His personality had always been too big for his body, and he was nearly bursting at the seams once his sense of humor and curious nature developed.

His ex-wife often complained about what a handful Samael was, especially when compared to his more subdued twin brother Azazel. While God had always struggled to care as strongly for Azazel as he had for Samael.

Long before Samael made the first stars for humanity, he made twinkling little lights to entertain himself. As an infant, God would often wake in Heaven to the sound of quiet, gurgling giggles from the nursery. He could still remember the very first time it happened. Azazel was sound asleep on his cot, facing the wall. Samael, on the other hand, was wide awake, surrounded by floating specks of light that danced around him.

God had watched him play and entertain himself for several moments before he was discovered by the ever-aware babe, who blessed him with the brightest smile to ever grace the lips of one of his children.

_"Da!"_

Samael had spoken early. He discovered his wings before the end of his first millennia, dozens of centuries sooner than any of his siblings. He was determined to spend time with his older siblings. He learned to fly long before God or Goddess felt was safe - and God was certain he'd done so that way his siblings couldn't leave him behind.

Azazel, as a result, spent more time with his mother than with his twin, which was another first amongst God's children.

When Samael and Azazel had two millennia to their names, Goddess became pregnant once more, and Samael became the first of his siblings to take big brothership seriously at such a young age.

While Raphael's healing powers strengthened and manifested with practice - primarily easing his mother's discomfort during pregnancies - Samael gained more control over his light.

He made two marble-sized balls of light that were cool to the touch, but Samael had done more than prevent concentrated light from being untouchable. He'd recreated his mother's light so perfectly that the two marbles changed color depending on how she felt.

They dimmed when she was unwell or sad, and before she would even know of her own suffering enough to ask for aid, God or Raphael would notice and heal what they could.

The Samael who called himself Lucifer only acknowledged his ability to make light. But he never realized that his father considered his gift a cousin to His own celestial abilities. His son was more like him than he would ever admit. As far as God was concerned, the two marbles of light his wife turned into earrings were his son's first intentional blessings. And he couldn't have been prouder of the caring, selfless nature of the act.

Once upon a time, Samael was a little angel who didn't want his mother and unborn siblings to suffer.

Now, he punished mortals who brought suffering upon the rest of their kind.

A noble but sad evolution, God supposed. Made sadder by how many of his son's actions were governed by spite rather than selfishness.

If he were braver, God would've been more obvious in his reconciliation attempts than sending Amenadiel to bless the Deckers. It wasn't that he feared his son's wrath, though he was wise enough to be wary of it, but rather that he was terrified of making things worse.

If he could undo their falling out, and Samael's Fall, he would. But his son wouldn't have as happy of a future if he did.

God watched, his chest tight with memories of Samael as an infant and child as Cain shot Chloe and Samael, despite his mortality, shielded them both with his wings. He knew the thought of Chloe being dead hurt more than the spray of bullets tearing through sinew and feathers and bone. Watching his son tremble from the shock of it all made his father murderous.

But Samael prided himself of punishing those who deserved it. So God made no move towards Cain. He watched his son drive Mazikeen's dagger through his chest, quickly sent Azrael to make sure Cain ended up in Hell, and sighed when he realized his son's suffering was far from over.

He'd given himself his "devil face" again, on accident. Because despite being one of God's truly _good_ children, Samael had always been too hard on himself, and with his guilt came his scars.

His wings were still bleeding, even though he'd tucked them out of sight of mortal eyes.

Chloe was in shock.

SWAT and the LAPD would be there any moment.

God refused to let Cain ruin everything his favorite son held dear.

Lucifer's wings were visible again, but only to Chloe, and the angry red scars from Samael's fall vanished.

God itched to heal them permanently, but part of his son wore his scars proudly. He would give Samael the choice of keeping that face, though the reminder of his mistakes made God nauseous and achy with guilt.

Chloe's shock fell away as she pieced together why and how Samael's wings ended up in their current state and whispered his chosen name, bringing him out of his shocked and anxious stupor.

_"Detective...I…"_

_"Lucifer, you're_ hurt._"_

Samael didn't look back at his wings, assuming they were still out, and God made them invisible to Chloe when he made to 'hide' them.

_"I'll be fine, Detective,"_ Samael began, but the rest of his words were interrupted by the arrival of the authorities.

Chloe took notice of the blood staining Samael's suit once the area had been deemed safe and made him sit against one of the pillars.

God vanished all broken bits of bloodied feathers and erased their existence from the mind's of everyone except for Chloe, Daniel, and Miss Lopez. The latter of the three blinked when the feather she's been examining simply vanished, and turned her gaze Heavenside.

**_He's not a method actor, is he, Big Guy?_**

God chuckled softly. "Nor is _Rae-Rae_ a ghost, my dear."

Ella's eyes widened in shock, no doubt because he answered her directly, but she quickly turned towards Samael who was losing consciousness as they waited for a medical team. God frowned and Ella abandoned her post and ran to his son.

_"Hey hey hey, Lucifer! Stay awake, buddy, okay? You can't quit on us! And after this I swear if you refer to yourself as anything other than an _angel_, so help me _God_."_

Samael gave a small derisive grunt. _"I assure you, Miss Lopez, that my father wouldn't be inclined to aid you in that regard."_

Ella's face fell. _"Guess it begs the question why he's not helping you, huh?"_ she asked.

"I want to," God said, this time letting Chloe and Daniel hear him, since the former was nearly hyperventilating in her worry for his son. "But I doubt he would appreciate me interfering any more than I already have."

He felt Chloe's temper spike before her expression darkened. _"I'd never watch my daughter suffer. Even if she hated me for helping. She's my child! And he's yours!"_

With another bittersweet chuckle, God conceded that the detective had a point. With a brief spread of his wings, he brought time to a halt and flew down.

His wings were away by the time the humans, and his son, registered his presence. The distrusting hiss from Samael was the least he expected, but it hurt all the same.

"Samael," he began, faltering slightly at the snarl he received. God sighed. "I know you've decided to hate your name, and fashioned yourself a new one, but I will not address you by 'The Devil's' name," he said. "Not because I don't respect your choice, but because I hate the persona humans have given you and I refuse to feed into it. I will not address the maker of stars by a mythical monster's name."

"I _am_ a-" Samael began, but his fury was too much for him in his weakened state and he gasped for breath, fighting blood loss and exhaustion. Always fighting.

"It is something of a comfort how little some parts of you have changed," God said gently, taking a few steps nearer to the group. "You may think yourself a monster, but all I see is my Little Star."

Pain, not from his wounds, flickered across Samael's face. _"Don't call me that!"_ he hissed.

God raised a brow, briefly taking note of his son's injuries and the status of his spirit. His light, weakened to make him mortal around Chloe, was dimming further.

"Sam then. Or Little Star. But I cannot address you as a monster - I won't. Even if you choose to go as one."

Samael scoffed. "And _I'm_ the proud one."

God smiled slightly. "I don't refuse out of pride for myself. Pride for you , my son, and guilt for myself. But we can speak of this when you're well. You are very hurt and the human medics will take too long to get you in an ambulance. Let me heal you at least enough for them to take up the rest."

The silence of the humans became oppressive while Samael stared at him.

"You're _asking_?" Samael wheezed. "For _permission_?"

God sighed at kneeled at the end of his son's outstretched legs. "I suppose I deserve your mistrust, even now. I've been rather passive about giving you cause to trust me again. But yes, son of mine, you may choose. You may not survive if you shun my help. As much as it pains me-" he glanced briefly at Chloe "-I know how much your free will means to you. Even to save you, I hesitate to simply take the choice from your hands."

Samael swallowed hard, and the humans' demanding he stop hesitating and accept his father's help fell on two sets of deaf ears.

"Why are you here?" his son asked.

God's eyes burned as he met his son's gaze and, without prompting, allowed his son to see his desires.

The look in Samael's eyes was not unlike a day long passed when his son had broken a wing playing a game he was too young for. Hurt and shame, misplaced then and now, distrust towards his siblings for tricking him into flying too fast and too high, was aimed at God. Eons prior, the same eyes had sought comfort and protection instead.

"Someone hurt my Little Star," he whispered. "You've already punished the culprit. Now please let me heal you."

His son didn't trust him. God knew that and felt the pain of it as sharply as he knew the pain in his wings was starting to affect his son. But Samael closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly all the same, to his father's surprise.

"I don't want to die."

God leaned forward and pressed his palm to Samael's forehead to heal some of his wounds.

"And I don't want you to suffer. I never should have," God said quietly.

He vanished the bullets, shards of bone, and broken feathers from the wounds in Samael's wings. He painlessly removed all the feathers that sat jaggedly or otherwise not how they ought to have - a painless preening, so to speak. He left the bullet in his arm but numbed the pain of it, and lessened his pain and fatigue overall.

"Thank you," God said. _For letting me help. For trusting me even for just a moment._ "I will give you space now, if you wish it. But I'm watching and I want to check your wings again once you've gotten to the hospital."

A weak nod was all he received, and Samael refused to meet his gaze.

The burning in God's eye reignited. "Call and I will come. No favors or debts owed."

He reluctantly returned to the Silver City in an instant, before any of the humans could direct another spoken word towards him, and time resumed on Earth.

Chloe, Ella, and Daniel tried not to bombard Samael with questions, but the few they asked went unanswered. His son was pensive the entire ride to the hospital, long after his one bullet-wounded arm had been tended to.

_"You don't have to tell me everything now,"_ was the first thing Chloe Decker told Samael once he was allowed to have visitors. _"But I need to know if you're okay. And if you're not...I'm here for you. You can talk to me, Lucifer."_

_"Is he making you unafraid?"_ Samael asked.

_"No,"_ said Chloe. _"How could I be afraid of you? I know you. I'm a bit freaked out by the situation, sure, but that's mostly shock over the fact that you were never speaking in metaphors. God and heaven, hell, all of it's real. That's...a lot."_

_"I've never lied to you."_

_"I know."_

Chloe pulled up a chair at sat at Samael's bedside. "Are you okay?"

_"I don't know."_

_"Because of your dad?"_

Samael shrugged with his unharmed shoulder. _"I haven't seen him since…"_

_"...the fall? Did that really happen?"_

Samael chuckled, the watery sound aimed at his lap. _"Oh yes, darling. How else would I have gained my other face? It was an epic row of biblical proportions."_

_"But you were close before that, right? He has nicknames for you. Like I do for Trixie."_

Samael's shoulders hunched and shook. God couldn't tell if he was laughing or crying. _"My birth name is almost lost in history, yet the most popular story of me was immortalized in a blood nursery rhyme."_

Chloe's eyes widened. _"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?!"_

Samael shrugged again, only this time he forgot about his wounded arm, and winced as a result. _"I liked playing hide and seek as a child. It was a challenge to hide, especially from Him, since...well, you ve seen the bloody things now. My wings are particularly difficult to overlook. My...my father wrote that song. I presume he gave humans the melody at some point. I assumed he was mocking me by doing so."_

_"Lucifer, I don't pretend to understand God, especially considering I didn't believe anything about the bible was real a few hours ago, but nothing about his body language struck me as mocking or disappointed earlier."_

_"He can be a right manipulative bastard when he wants to be, Detective."_

_"Yet he kneeled at your feet and begged you to let him heal you."_

_"I'm still trying to understand that part."_

_"I couldn't imagine fighting with Trixie and never making up, Lucifer. He's your _father_. Surely he loves you."_

_"Did he love me when he cast me out of my home the one time I truly asked him for anything, Detective? When all I wanted was the right to make my own choices? Did any of them love me as they watched me fall, watched me _burn!_ It's been millennia and the past few years have been the most I've seen of my family since that day."_

_"Well, if you are all immortal, then it kind of makes sense why it would take eons or whatever, right? Time passes differently for you all?"_

_"They knew where to find me. They chose not to. Not until I left Hell and lobbed off my wings and decided I had no intention of following any of His bloody rules anymore."_

_"Sounded to me like he respected your choice to do so."_

_"He sent Amenadiel to drag me back to hell, Detective. Amenadiel, who revived Malcolm, and you know how that turned out."_

Chloe faltered at that and frowned. After a moment, she took Samael's hand. _"I don't have the answers for all that. And I'm not trying to excuse whatever your father has done. But his actions today don't line up with much of that. Maybe you should ask him. He said to call for him if you needed anything."_

Samael squeezed her hand, but fell quiet. _"I don't want to. Being disappointed and betrayed by my father once was...more than enough, thank you."_

_"You don't want to mend things and have them fall apart again."_

_"No. Or even hope for it."_

God hung his head, barely aware of the tears burning down his cheeks. Tears that began when he left his son's side. And Chloe Decker, who was also crying for his son's pain, turned a withering glare to the sky.

_**He'll never ask for you and I think you know that. Just because he won't swallow his pride doesn't mean you don't owe it to him to swallow yours and fix the mess you two made.**_

"My son has no desire to listen to any of the things I wish to say," he told her. "And as you can see, he's not recovered or forgiven me for forcing my will on him last time."

_**That's because you took your anger out on your son and didn't think before you acted. You've had time to think. Doing what he needs and losing your temper are very different.**_

Once again, The Miracle was correct.

"You are similarly wise to my son's therapist, Miss Decker," said God. "Would it be too much to ask that you make sure my presence is at least tolerated before I drop in? Samael is fond of his privacy and choices, as I'm sure you're aware."

Chloe told Samael that his father wished to speak with him. And that she was struggling not to tell him to go to hell, which made his son smile. But the knowledge that he was still watching over him made Samael stiffen all the same. God's chest ached.

He tried to think back to games of hide and seek in the garden to ease the pain, but only succeeded in making it worse.

"I suppose this is fair," he said when he landed in the hospital room. "The pain of your distrust has been a close companion of mine for some time now. It's a fair punishment and you're not even doing it out of spite. Isn't that what you've always wanted - for me to hurt as I hurt you? Revel in it, if it makes you less unhappy, son."

Samael didn't respond. Chloe Decker gave him a hard look.

God sighed. "I'm not mocking you, Samael. If rejoicing in my torment brings you peace and a sense of justice then rejoice, for your sake and mine."

"I don't know what I want you to feel," Samael muttered. "I scarcely know what _I_ feel."

God didn't move from his spot against the wall - he was as far as he could be without making it difficult for Samael to look at him if he chose.

"You have every right to be upset with me," God said. "I've been upset with myself since the full weight of what I'd done sunk in."

Samael scoffed. "And how long ago was that? This morning?" he sneered.

God blinked away tears as the unwanted memory of his son engulfed in flames came to the forefront of his mind. "No," he said softly. "Your...your wings dimmed as you fell. As the fires caught you."

Samael's eyes were blazing with _his_ light- not the light of hellfire like his son often believed - when he finally aimed a glare at his father.

"What in _my name_ did you bloody well expect to happen when you threw me down!?"

God tried to hold his gaze, but shame won out and he stared at the floor instead.

"I...I didn't realize that your wing was…" he swallowed stiffly. "I honestly expected you to fly back up and keep arguing with me. I didn't realize you'd gotten hurt in all the fighting. You were nigh indestructible by then, Samael. I...forgot that I wasn't battling a true equal in power."

"You _never_ considered any of us equal to you!"

God forced himself to meet his son's eyes again. To let Samael see his tears and his pain. "How could I have considered you anything but my equal after all of your input, help, and insight while we worked on humanity? Who lit the universe I created, Samael? Who realized that the only way to make humans consistently stable was to give them souls as we have? Who realized the bad eggs were an inevitable design flaw and helped me design a fitting punishment for those who deserved it?"

God took a deep breath and sighed, using the back of one hand to wipe the wetness from his cheeks. "You're the only one who helped me create humanity, Samael. The others simply helped me govern it. You _know_ that."

"Fat lot of good being the favorite did me." The waver in Samael's voice felt like a knife. "You still let me fall."

"I was in shock," said God. "It's a worthless excuse, but it's true. I saw forks emerge in your path the moment I realized your wing was broken. You would be happier at the end of millenia of suffering than if I'd gone back on an ill-timed decision and saved you. Even if your happiness excluded me, I wanted you to find it."

He looked at their silent audience member of one, then back to Samael.

"You've found a chunk of it," he said softly. "I didn't realize I'd be directly responsible for her existence until moments before I sent you brother to bless her parents. I promise you I've had no major influence on anything else. Except for preventing her from dying a few times and thwarting your siblings' attempts to make you return to hell."

"Attempts they claim were _your_ will," Samael grumbled.

God raised a brow. "Only one of my children has never felt the need to make assumptions and perform tasks I never directly asked him to do. The others have decided there's some sort of favoritism vacuum left that one of them needs to fill. There isn't. We've been estranged, but you were never gone in the sense they seemed to enjoy pretending you were. I blame your mother's influence on that particularly unhealthy bit of sibling rivalry."

Some of the armor behind Samael's eyes broke away, replaced by more hurt. "Did she lie to me?" he asked. "She said you wanted to destroy me."

God felt bile burn the back of his throat, briefly remembering the smug _Checkmate_ that his ex-wife had sent in his direction all those months ago.

"Is _that_ what she told you?" God whispered. "Heaven above, Samael, even at my angriest I never wanted to truly do you harm. I still ache for your little brother despite his undoing being his own fault, as far as I'm concerned, and Uriel was, admittedly, one of your more annoying siblings. Even I couldn't have gone from loving you to blatant, murderous apathy over one frustrating bout of teenage rebellion, Samael. I wanted you to learn a lesson and not the way it played out. I didn't want you _dead_. "

"But...Mum-"

God inhaled sharply, piecing together what had happened with his ex-wife as he glanced back in time to events he hadn't watched over.

"Your mother...changed after the last of your siblings were born," God said quietly. "I didn't recognize how drastic the changes were. For the sake of simplicity, let's say she developed a case of celestial postpartum...well psychosis really. Her personality started to warp entirely. She _pretended_ to be her old self more often than not. She started being cruel to some of your siblings when I had my back turned. When I discovered it, I started to punish her, but in ways that wouldn't draw your attention. I didn't want our fighting to affect my children more than it already was.

"She retaliated by attacking humanity. But she specifically tried to destroy _your_ contributions and she wanted you to think I'd done it. She made the first black holes. I tried to counter them by making new, rarer types of stars, but by then, you'd begun to rebel. I sent your mother hoping, forgetting that you didn't share all of my gifts - which I did often, you always knew _my_ thoughts - you'd realize her offenses against you."

Samael's eyes were glassy. "You...sent Mother to hell so I could get revenge? She... _She_ broke my stars? I thought-"

The words caught in his throat, and Samael chose to stare at Chloe's hand in his own instead, his fingers gently stroking hers.

God swallowed uncomfortably. "You thought I did it. To spite you." He sighed. "I understand why. But I've never broken one of your stars."

"Mum has."

The mood-marbles.

"I remember," God said. How his little angel had cried when he found the broken pieces of his stars on the kitchen floor.

Samael's shoulders began to shake again. "W-why now?" he asked. His voice trembled. "It's been _millennia_. Why _now_?"

God waited to answer until his son's pained gaze met his own, and smiled sadly.

"I guess I didn't feel like I deserve your forgiveness," he answered. "I'm still not sure that I do. But the desire for it has started to overpower the guilt."

He paused, pretending, for the sake of his son's pride, that he couldn't see his tears.

"Tell me, Samael," he said softly. "Have we grown drastically different from one another, or does our _catchphrase_ still hold true?"

An exhale of a half laugh left Chloe, the first sound she'd made since God joined them on the human plane. "Like father, like son," she murmured, giving Samael an empathetic, encouraging smile.

A broken, choked sob left God's favorite son.

He left the wall before his desire to move registered. The bed railing in his way slid out of place a moment later, and God sat at his son's side. Hope built up in his chest when Samael reached for him, the pressure suffocating, and he held his son. But he was gentler than he preferred, mindful of the pain in his son's back.

"Let me heal your wings."

Samael nodded against his shoulder.

Again God ignored the wound on his arm, mindful of the humans who knew he had a bullet wound. But he did take away as much of Samael's pain as he could. The fatigue would have to heal naturally.

God managed to catch a few words amongst the sobs his son tried to withhold. Millennia of pent up longing, shame, hurt, and betrayal, left to fester due to God's own shame and cowardice.

It took a few moments of holding his son and listening to make out what he was trying to say.

_I never wanted to fight._

_I just wanted you to listen._

_I wasn't trying to be disrespectful._

_I'm sorry, Dad, I'm so sorry._

"You don't owe me an apology, Samael," he whispered. "I lost my temper. Among other things. I found out after the fact that your mother meddled as well. Made the situation worse. I think she knew hurting you was the most certain way to hurt me, second only to making me hurt you myself. I am the one who should be sorry. You, Samael, were forgiven and my anger forgotten the moment I realized your wing was broken. I'm sorry that the shock of it all made me immobile. And I'm sorry that your happiest possible future could only be reached through a path of torment and suffering. If I could have given it to you without that, I would have…"

God held him tighter.

"I know better than anyone that _you_ of all my angels didn't deserve what you've gone through. You haven't lived a day without my love, Little Star, and you never will."

* * *

**This started on AO3 - and since the fic numbers over here are so low, I figured I'd upload it here as well. xoxo**


	2. Strain for the Father

Chloe slipped her hand from Lucifer's grasp not long after he fell asleep. His father - God - had insisted Lucifer sleep, since apparently extreme fatigue was something that could only be healed via means so complex it was all around easier on even celestial bodies to just sleep it off. She'd sat in a somewhat awkward silence with God for twenty minutes before she caught movement across the window of the room's door and noticed Dan.

She'd nearly forgotten the phone call they had (while Lucifer was getting a bullet removed from his arm) about how worried Trixie had been when she learned one of her favorite people had gotten hurt. They agreed she could visit him after a somewhat tense conversation in which she had to remind Dan that Lucifer couldn't possibly be the embodiment of evil if God Himself had come down from heaven to heal him.

"I'll be right back," she murmured as she stood.

God gave her a soft hum of acknowledgment, but seemed lost in his thoughts. She wondered if he was looking through space and time, or simply haunted by how his falling out with Lucifer had nearly resulted in his son losing his life several times now.

Watching Lucifer fall to pieces from the stress of it all had put a nigh permanent lump in her throat.

Trixie was sniffling in Dan's arms when Chloe joined them in the hall.

"Hey, Monkey," she said softly, opening her arms for her daughter. "It's okay, sweetheart. Lucifer's gonna be okay."

"Who was that man?" Trixie asked as she went to her mother, her subdued voice a clear indicator of how worried she'd been. "He looks a lot like Lucifer."

"He does, doesn't he?" Chloe agreed. "That's Lucifer's dad."

Trixie sat up so quickly it would've been humorous if her expression weren't distraught.

"And you left him?!" Trixie cried. "But Lucifer said his dad hates him!"

She squirmed so hard Chloe couldn't hold her, and bolted for Lucifer's door once she was on her feet.

"We can't leave him alone in there!"

"Trixie wait!" Chloe hissed, chasing after her daughter and hoping Lucifer wouldn't get woken up from his much-needed rest.

Surprisingly, Trixie had the tact to whisper-yell once she got into Lucifer's room.

"Get away from, Lucifer!"

Oh for the love of…

"Ah," God sounded amused. "You must be Beatrice. I wouldn't normally challenge such a willful young lady, but I'm keeping Samael's nightmares at bay. I'm afraid if I stray too far, I won't be able to keep his rest peaceful."

Chloe tried to send the God of Creation an apologetic look, but he was giving Trixie his undivided, infinitely patient attention.

"Are you the one who hurt Lucifer?" Trixie demanded in another fierce whisper.

God shook his head. "Not this time, young one. But we had a rather...unfortunate disagreement a very long time ago. I presume my son has confided in you somewhat. It warms my heart to see his friends gathered to support him...and protect him."

"Trixie," Chloe began gently. "Lucifer's relationship with his dad is...complicated. But his father isn't here to hurt him."

Trixie's posture still radiated distrust, but her raised hackles settled slightly. "Are you really God?" she asked.

"I'm afraid I am," he replied. "You've asked me to keep your mother safe a few times, if I recall."

"And Lucifer," Trixie said pointedly.

God smiled slightly. "And my son, yes. I keep him safe when I can, but it's difficult to do so without taking away his freedom to choose his own path."

Trixie glanced back at Chloe, uncertainty swimming in her eyes, before she turned back to God. "So you're not mad at each other anymore?"

God chuckled. "I imagine Samael is still upset with me, but I haven't been angry with him for thousands of years."

"Do you love him again?"

God's expression crumbled, sadness darkening his gaze. "I never stopped loving my son, Beatrice. I just...made him feel like I had. I'm trying to fix that now."

"Have you missed him?"

"Trixie," Chloe sighed. "Enough, Monkey."

God shared a weighted look with the ten-year-old before him. "Every single day," he answered. "Everything at home reminds me of him in some way."

Trixie finally softened, nodding sagely. "I think he missed you too. But he didn't want to say so."

"The spawns omnipotence rivals yours."

They all turned towards the bed to find Lucifer's eyes cracked open. He looked slightly more rested, but the day's events had obviously taken their toll. He cracked a small smile at Trixie, in part, Chloe thought, to avoid his father's gaze.

"Hello, Child."

"Lucifer!" She ran up to his bedside, unbothered by her proximity to God, and Chloe sighed in exasperation. "Are you okay?"

Only her child would disregard God's personal space so she could check on 'Satan'.

"It's a nonsense moniker, I agree," God mused, standing to give Trixie and Lucifer some privacy. "Forgive my eavesdropping. I've been listening to the thoughts of all humans coming near this room since Samael arrived. Just in case."

"Don't worry about it," Chloe said. Honestly, of all the things she could get her panties in a twist over, God tuning into her thoughts felt like a stupid battle to pick anyway. "So...did the whole garden thing really happen?"

"With Eve?" God clarified. "Yes, but that wasn't Samael. He has a fraternal twin - Azazel. I've...come to realize that Azazel and his mother were the true leaders of Samael's 'rebellion'. They manipulated him to the forefront, likely so he would take the fall for them. It pains me that they succeeded."

"What did Lucifer do?" she asked, watching Trixie frown and gently kiss the bandage on Lucifer's arm, obviously catching him off guard.

He even returned her gentle hug and let her lay against him a while.

"Are your wings okay?" Chloe heard her ask. Lucifer's reply was too soft to catch.

"He learned to think for himself on matters of importance," God said quietly. "It was something I taught him, really. Or perhaps he inherited it. Either way, he couldn't have helped me sculpt humanity if I'd held his hand the whole time. That's why I never asked for help. Samael was the first visionary amongst my offspring…the first to share his own ideas with me on the project at the time."

"Which made him a target for the selfish and bitter members of your family," Chloe guessed.

"Indeed."

Trixie released Lucifer, allowing him to gingerly sit up.

God frowned, worried. "Samael…you need your rest."

Lucifer took a few labored breaths, one hand held out to silence his father. Then he spread his wings.

It took Chloe a moment to realize God had paused time again. Leaving the room's inhabitants unfrozen.

Two tears slid down Lucifer's cheeks as he winced. His wings looked fully healed from what Chloe could see, though.

"Sore?" God asked gently.

Lucifer sighed. "It's fine."

"Is it truly or are you suffering unnecessarily?" God parried.

Trixie's quiet awe turned into worry. "Can he make your wings better?" she asked.

Lucifer nodded.

"Then why won't you let him help?"

His wings drooped. "Old habits, I think...but perhaps you raise a fair point, Beatrice…"

He swallowed audibly, but the words seemed to stick in his throat.

God gave him a sympathetic smile. "May I?"

One wing twitched in God's direction. He took a few steps forward and gently soothed some of the feathers back into place as he fed light into them. A tremble went through both wings as the tension left them, and God barely caught Samael's muttered thanks.

"You're welcome," he said warmly. "It's hardly a chore, but I'd commit to the effort if it were."

"See?" Trixie whispered to Lucifer, beaming. "I don't think he was lying. Mommy says she'll always love me no matter what, even if I do something bad."

Lucifer gently reached out to pat Trixie on the head, but didn't seem capable of offering a response.

Chloe noticed how God seemed reluctant to release Lucifer's wing, making her wonder how the extra appendages influenced things like personal space and affection for celestials. She imagined a child-sized Lucifer curled against his father on a cloud and tried to shake the image away before Lucifer noticed.

She forgot about God's mind reading until she noticed his expression had switched from closed off to somewhat amused.

"If a day ever comes where I can tease him again, I'd be happy to give you a peek into the past. One of my younger daughters reminds me of yours, actually. Azrael."

"The angel of death?" Chloe asked.

God nodded. "Collector of souls, really. It was Samael's duty first, but her powers were better suited for the task."

Chloe decided that she needed to do some research, that way she could fact check the celestials and make sense of everything.

She was pulled out of her strategizing when she accidentally tuned in to a quiet conversation between Lucifer and her daughter.

"...I'd be in your debt, Beatrice, if you could inform Mazikeen that my father's presence is peaceful. If he stays on this plane of existence overnight, I'd rather someone help him get settled in my penthouse and lock the elevator. But I think your mother could use some rest as well - be sure to mention that. You know how Maze is, Hell's best demoness won't be looking forward to this task."

Trixie nodded with eager understanding. "I'll tell her that I gave him a talking to already and that she has to be nice."

Lucifer's lips twitched. "That should do nicely, Spawn. And as promised, when I'm free from this healthcare hell, you'll receive your money and your chocolate cake."

Beaming, Trixie held out a hand and they shook on it. Chloe couldn't even muster up some minor annoyance at Lucifer's collusion. Surely being taught how to bargain by God's craftiest son would only open doors in Trixie's future...

* * *

God followed his son's loyal demon through the night club he'd only seen from above, a faint smile gracing his features as he took in the space. The ambient lighting reminded him of the first galaxies he ever made with his son, but his impatient guide didn't allow him more than a moment of admiration before she snapped at His Holy Creation-ness to hurry up.

Samael's penthouse was even more fitting. The bright, warm lighting from the elevator and the wall behind the bar were a blatant nod to cooler hues of starlight, perhaps even Sol itself. The openness of the space gave him a similar sense of deja vu. The balcony and jacuzzi made his chest ache. He'd noticed before, but standing in his son's chosen home made it much more obvious that those two features were a blatant recreation of his living space and stomping grounds in heaven.

The historical aspects were also a nice touch, nodding to his previous visits to the human realm.

"I don't know why he's trusting you," the demon said coldly from the entryway. "But God or not, betray him again and I put an end to you. And...don't touch the top shelf stuff. Last time I checked, he didn't like you enough for that degree of hospitality."

Trying to hide his amusement for the sake of avoiding a surely unavoidable conflict, God said, "Last time either of us checked, my son didn't 'like me enough' to offer me the use of his guest room. And I think I mentioned this in the car, but I'm not here to antagonize Samael."

"His name is _Lucifer,_" she snapped. "And whatever. This isn't really my problem anyway. He's hurt. I'm doing him a favor because he used Decker's kid to talk me into this shit."

"I appreciate you doing my son a favor," God said carefully, turning to face Mazikeen. "Although I do wonder if you realize that your freedom is a gift from my son, not some right you've claimed for yourself or manipulated out of him… I'd think you'd have realized how benevolent your master is. He's certainly treated you better about demanding your freedom - not to mention completely disregarding his trust for your own selfish gains - than myself or my other children would have been."

The hate burning in Mazikeen's eyes seemed too overwhelming, preventing her from forming an immediate comeback. Her only response was the hand that twitched towards her blades.

God's smile cooled the room. "By all means, don't torment yourself a moment longer in my presence, dear girl. My eldest will soon bring me a cell phone, though I don't think I need it, and I can certainly call on any of my children if I have need of anything."

A slight snarl came from the demon. "I'm watching you."

He chuckled. "I'm sure you are. Let me know how well that pans out without omnipotent foresight."

She glared at him until the elevator doors cut off her line of sight.

God sighed. Truth be told, he expected that interaction to go much worse.

He moved towards the bar, ignoring Mazikeen's threat about the top shelf since his son had specifically told him that he'd prefer the half-empty bottle resting 'on high'. Single malt.

God poured himself 3 fingers to sip and found the burn as pleasant as Samael promised. The bite of cinnamon left a biting warmth behind as well that he quite enjoyed, but it wasn't too sweet.

He'd just started to relax sometime later when a timid voice floated into his awareness.

...Dad?

He smiled, despite the immediate pang of worry.

"Everything alright, Samael?"

Well, yes, I'm fine. Still not pleased about the humans holding me hostage here overnight, of course, but I was...well I was checking on you.

God paused mid-sip, caught off guard. "Whatever for, Little Star?" he asked. "We agreed I'd stay at your penthouse while I remain on the mortal plane."

He didn't bother mentioning that neither he nor his son was particularly interested in being in separate realms of existence, despite God's ability to travel to and from at will. Especially since Samael could only feel his presence while they occupied the same realm.

God didn't want to call it separation anxiety, despite being fully aware that there was no other accurate terminology for their current plight.

Maze stopped by before heading home with Chloe and the child. She was quite miffed.

God snorted to himself. "We had a discussion that was likely much more unpleasant for her than it was for me."

Antagonizing Hell's finest?

"More like reminding your right hand that I've seen every choice she's ever made and that she doesn't actually deserve your continued favor and leniency after the series of choices she's made these last few years."

...Oh. I see…

"I'm not going to smite your little demon just for some pointless threats, Samael. I know you're fond of her. You helped create her."

My toes aren't trodden on. I'm...just surprised.

God hummed thoughtfully and sipped his scotch. "You've spent an awfully long time thinking I was apathetic to your existence, Little Star. You can speak freely. You're surprised I care enough to speak my mind."

I don't want to whinge. But, yes. I was.

He smiled against his glass. "Mind your pride, Little Star. I think in this case, it's only serving to prevent you from hearing things you long to be true."

Unsurprisingly, Samael immediately changed the subject.

You're settled in then? Did you try the scotch?

"I am and I'm on my second glass. It's quite good. It's been some time since I've enjoyed human creations. They're quite the artisans when it comes to their sins, aren't they?"

You'd like wine tastings, I think. Alcohol is something of an art form for those who can afford the finer things.

"You'll have to guide me. What about bread and cheese? Are those still artisan crafts?"

He talked with his son for hours, casually enjoying drink recommendations and eventually moving to the balcony so he could enjoy the limited view of the stars. It was easier to talk to Samael this way, to God's surprise. His son was much more comfortable just...chatting when they weren't face to face.

Though it made sense. God was overwhelmed with guilt and memories when they were in the same room together, or any time he laid eyes on his Light Bringer. (A silly name, actually given to him by humans due to the light emitted from his wings. Light Maker was the original moniker for his abilities, though God still quite preferred Little Star. He wondered if his son realized how similar the nickname sounded compared to his chosen mortal name.)

The moon was quite high when Samael's responses began to slow, his thoughts growing sluggish and jumbled.

"Sleep, Samael," God said gently. "You need rest, especially if you have to go to the police station with your detective tomorrow after your release… I'm not going anywhere."

I'm...not tired enough to fall asleep. Not yet.

God made a quiet, disbelieving noise. "I imagine you're too old for a bedtime story to send you off, as well."

Samael's indignance was louder than any audible scoff. Of course I am.

A brief silence fell between them, heavy, but comfortable.

God felt his eyes prickle, knew his son's were doing the same, and took a deep breath as he finished off the amber liquid in his glass.

"Once upon a time, a baby boy was born…"

* * *

He wasn't the first baby boy born to the family, nor the last. He wasn't even born alone. He had a brother, born moments after him, who's light wasn't nearly so bright.

In fact, none of God's children had even been born as bright as his newest son.

He loved them both, as he loved their older brothers and sister, and as he would love those who would come after them. His little angels were all unique in their own way, all beautiful.

This one, though, the first twin born from this particular pregnancy, was the first of his children to look like him.

He had the same dark hair, bright, fiery eyes, and he glowed brighter than all of his siblings.

He was born disgruntled as if he hadn't enjoyed being born any more than his mother had enjoyed giving birth, but like most parents, God felt compelled to soothe the child in his arms, and Goddess did the same with their other son.

Only one of the newborns stopped crying long before falling asleep.

God swore the baby in his arms, with gentle light coming off his skin, smiled at him on purpose.

All was well.

The babies grew. Before the end of their first millennia, the brightest of the twins had sprouted his wings - making him the youngest, the only , of God's children to ever crawl with wings.

The baby's older brothers and siblings were so proud of him. They called him cherub - which was heaven-speak for the soft, downy feathers that made up the undercoat of their wings.

Heaven glowed just a little brighter every time the baby smiled.

From a young age, he preferred his father's company. Like all babies, he loved his mother as well, and had his fair share of "Mummy's Boy" moments, but when he couldn't sleep, he wanted his father. When he was unwell, he wanted his father. When he got hurt playing, he'd cry for his father.

And his twin did the opposite.

Their parents found it amusing at the time. In the early days, neither was jealous of being preferred by one twin as opposed to the other.

There was balance. There was peace.

The babies grew into toddlers and the Goddess conceived again. The brighter son learned to make stars and began to follow his father everywhere he could.

He learned to fly and his siblings, as children do, were jealous of the little one getting so much attention. So instead of taking care of their little brother when they went out to play, they planned to trick him instead, and finally prove to their father that he wasn't any better than they were after all.

Children don't always think things through as well as they should.

They planned a race through the forests of heaven, the very forests where the sapling for the Tree of Eden came from, that was full of twists and turns. Each angel was to race one at a time, and the two eldest - Amenadiel and Michael - promised to fly up and fetch golden apples for the winner, since the others were too young to get their own.

Michael, whose powers were underdeveloped at the time, could only consciously induce a sense of fear in people when he concentrated. Amenadiel could inconsistently freeze people or time, but not both together.

When it was their little brother's turn, they reminded him to fly as fast as he possibly could, then Michael made him panic and Amenadiel slowed him down at random.

It wasn't long before he clipped a wing and was knocked out of the sky.

The older siblings didn't even think to feign innocence, they were so proud of their 'accomplishment'.

Their father was less so.

Much much less so.

He healed his son's broken wing, scolded all of the children old enough to understand where they went wrong and punished them accordingly.

In hindsight, keeping his youngest son with him for the rest of the day may not have been the wisest course of action long-term, but his baby had been hurt and needed cheering up.

He would do anything to keep his children happy, but he couldn't deny that the compulsion and protectiveness was a little stronger with his youngest son, even after many more of his siblings had been born. The son that looked like him, glowed like him and was especially attached to him remained glued to his side.

His father would do anything to keep him happy and safe.

* * *

"No matter what," God finished quietly.

He could feel Samael on the edges of sleep, his mirrored heartache, and decided that they could pick up this story another time.

"Sleep, Little Star, I'll be here in the morning."

Do you swear it?

God smiled wryly. "Do you desire me to be here in the morning?"

Yes.

"Then you have my word, Sammy."

God enjoyed the ambiance of L.A. nightlife while he waited for Samael to drift off. Then he took a few spare minutes to bathe in the not-silence before reaching out to some of his children.

Azrael. Gabriel. Michael. Raphael. Amenadiel.

Four of his children landed along the balcony, but the flutter of wings behind him assured God that Amenadiel was present as well.

"Father-" his eldest began.

"Relax, my son," said God. "I'm not here to harm your brother nor scold any of you. I'm no more upset with any of you than I am upset with Samael for building himself a life here."

When worry still graced his children's features, he added, "I really don't care that your brother left hell, you know."

"You...don't?" asked Azrael. "But...Luce- Sam thinks you do."

God nodded. "It's a long story, but your brother and I have spoken. I dare hope we've started to mend things, even… the point is, your brother now knows my feelings on the matter. Unfortunately, he was hurt protecting a human friend of his, and he's still in a mortal hospital. He's to be released tomorrow morning."

Some of his children shared glances as Amenadiel joined them outside. "Father," he began. "Why are we here?"

God took a deep breath. "I've realized that my own cowardice and refusal to face certain painful truths has caused our entire family harm, but Samael has taken the brunt of that pain and shouldered it on his own for millennia. I'd like to rectify this issue. To try and restore our family to what it once was, if possible. Samael was always closest to the group of you. Seems silly to let you all continue to avoid him unnecessarily."

Azrael's expression brightened the most at the news, but God was surprised to see Michael's tighten. He shot his son a concerned look.

"Who harmed Samael?" he asked gruffly. "And how?"

"Cain," God answered. "Your brother is rendered...partly mortal under certain Earthly circumstances. Cain took advantage of those circumstances to threaten someone your brother cares about, then tried to kill your brother. Cain's been punished."

Michael's fist clenched. "By whom?"

"Samael killed him. I made sure he went to hell. I may fly down there myself and tweak his arrangements personally once your brother has come to terms with the shift in our relationship," God said. "He's adjusting better than I hoped, but…"

"He has trust issues," Azrael chimed hesitantly. "I haven't been down here to see him personally, but I checked in on him some time ago. Amenadiel was trying to bribe him back to hell. He really didn't trust him."

God nodded solemnly. "Amenadiel took it upon himself to 'save me the trouble' of getting your brother back to hell. What he neglected to ask was…" he paused, a pained, bittersweet smile gently gracing his lips, "was whether or not that's what I desired. It wasn't."

God shook the melancholy haze from his mind. "I'm just trying to make sure that the members of this family most likely to listen and keep their heads understand what's going on. He may not ask for it or even realize he needs it, but if I convince him to visit home for a spell, he'll need a support system while your other siblings come to terms with things."

Raphael cleared his throat. "Would Samael accept my help if I offered to ease some of his mental sufferings? Minds are more complicated than bodies, but I could take the edge off?"

God shook his head. "It pains me to say, but this pain may run too deep for any of us to attempt to heal. I haven't tried, aside from keeping nightmares at bay. Your brother needs to experience the full weight and relief of healing on his own if he's going to move past this - and so do I."

Michael and Raphael shared a near-identical worried glance, as God's first set of twins often did when worrying for their younger siblings. Gabriel was pensive, silently standing beside his sister while Azrael sniffled quietly.

"Have you anything to say, loves?" God asked them, suddenly worried that he'd misjudged - that they weren't ready to forgive their brother for misdeeds that weren't truly his own.

Gabriel swallowed before he spoke. "It was Mom and Azazel, wasn't it?"

His other siblings turned towards him, fearing, God hoped, that it was true and realizing what that meant for Samael.

"They tricked him, didn't they?" Gabriel continued, his voice shaking.

"Yes," God said softly, his throat tight. "Yes, I believe they did. Successfully too, since Samael ended up taking the brunt of the punishment."

Michael's eyes burned a shade of blue Samael had dubbed 'prelude to supernova' eons ago.

"Sammy wasn't the real frontrunner?!" he exclaimed. "He was misled! He's a _victim,_ Father! All this time the victim's been getting punished in place of the truly guilty?!"

The brightness of Michael's anger fizzled out into despair faster than God had ever seen, and his second son dropped to his knees.

"Jophiel thought Sammy was safe...that Mum wouldn't dare target him. How'd she manage it so perfectly?"

Raphael extended a wing to his twin in comfort. "We will fix this and welcome Samael home. We owe him no less than that, except perhaps our patience. Trust takes much time to heal."

"Can I go see him?" Azrael asked in a small voice. "When he wakes up?"

God's features softened. "Of course, my winter star, although I cannot promise your brother will be pleased to see any of you at the moment. He's...slowly getting used to my presence. Learning of his mother's deceit...broke a part of him. He's been rather subdued, dare I say timid since. I'm worried for him."

"What would you like us to do, Father?" Amenadiel asked.

God thought for several moments. "Do as your brother would have you do," he decided. "Whatever you wish. Except I'm going to set some ground rules - any further acts that intentionally bring any manner or harm towards your brother or those he holds dear will be punished severely ."

"Can I help?" Michael asked darkly. "If anyone's foolish enough to dare?"

God shrugged. "If Samael doesn't desire the honors, certainly."

His second eldest nodded, satisfied, and stood. Raphael's wing stayed around his twin and one hand came to rest on his shoulder.

Gabriel was pensive and clearly as upset as the rest of his siblings, which God hated to witness. It was unavoidable, he knew, but it hurt him nonetheless.

"You all need time to consider what I've told you," he said. "Please, go give yourselves time to process."

Amenadiel flew away first. Then Michael and Raphael. Gabriel hesitated but eventually left with a sigh.

Azrael lingered, unshed tears lining her empty gaze.

"Rae," he said gently. "Come here, my love."

He stood and wrapped his arms around her as she wept for her brother.

"Does he hate us all?" she asked.

"Samael could never hate you," he said. "He may be cross for some time, but Samael would do anything for you before this mess, Azrael. He's likely missed you, missed many of us, and has been too hurt to admit it to himself."

It was several minutes before Azrael pulled back and wiped her face with her hands.

"We'll fix things," she said with watery conviction. "We have to."

God watched her fly away, then went back inside and poured himself another glass of cinnamon scotch.

Dawn was teasingly staining the sky, just barely lightening the deep blue hues, when he reclaimed his seat on the balcony. He got the sense that the day ahead would be a long one.


	3. Struggling to Heal

Lucifer knew he wasn't awake.

For starters, he was staring at the courtyard of his childhood home in Heaven. And second, he was looking at several of his siblings - and they were all children.

He wasn't present, however. Not as an adult nor a child.

But a barely toddling-aged Azrael was sat against the fountain, minding the rule about the littlest ones getting near the water when the adults weren't around. Amenadiel and Michael were arguing over a game of marbles, the very same set of marbles Lucifer had helped his father make for their games by the looks of things, and Jophiel was trying to mediate.

Gabriel was laying on the ground besides Azrael, cloud gazing. He didn't notice when a vicious shudder wracked her frame.

But Lucifer recognized her plight instantly.

_"Uh oh,"_ she whimpered, standing despite the budding tremors. _"Sammy-el? Where's Sammy-el?"_

_"With father, Rae,"_ Amenadiel answered absently.

_"As usual,"_ Michael mumbled.

Jophiel glared at them both. _"Don't be jealous. Dad asked for his help. You should be proud of Sammy's talents."_

"_Quoting Dad much?"_ Michael countered.

And the arguing began, drawing their attention farther away from their panic ridden little sister.

_"R-raph-el!"_ Azrael cried. _"Help!"_

Raphael landed near Gabriel, who had finally been drawn out of the clouds.

_"What's wrong, Azzie?"_ he asked, ignoring the bickering siblings.

Raphael spared them a tired glance, but shook his head. _"You're not hurt, Azrael, what's wrong?"_

_"Sammy-el!"_ she insisted. _"Need Sammy-el!"_

Raphael frowned. _"Sam and Dad are at the observatory, Rae. I don't know when they'll be back, but you're too little to be up there alone."_

_"Peaz! Need Sammy, need Sammy!"_

Raphael felt terrible, but he held firm. _"Sorry, Rae, but I can't fly you up there. What if you got lost in the universe? We'd miss you. And Sam and Dad would never forgive me. Just wait down here. Go see mom."_

_"No!"_ Jophiel shouted. _"No, I...I'll walk her to the observatory. And stay with her. These two idiots won't stop fighting anyway."_

Raphael frowned again. _"If you're certain, Jo."_

_"We'll be careful. Besides, Rae is a good girl. She won't try to jump after them."_

For her fifteen millennia, Jophiel had always been the wisest of them. She picked up a trembling Azrael and held her close, then turned to Gabriel.

_"What about you, little brother? Are you coming?"_

Gabriel shook his head and looked to Raphael. _"Can I go with you?"_

Raphael shrugged. _"Sure. Just don't startle the animals. Dad told me to find anything that was hurt and practice healing."_

Gabriel nodded. _"I'll be quiet,"_ he said, his tone surprisingly ironic for a four-millennia-old.

Raphael shared a smirk with him, picked him up, and flew off.

Jophiel turned to her two older brothers, keenly aware that only a few centuries separated them. _"Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."_

She flew away before either could answer.

Azrael's entire body was shaking when they landed outside the observatory. Jophiel ran up the stairs as carefully as she could, sending her thoughts towards her father.

Thankfully, Samael had just landed back in the main room by the time she reached the top steps. His eyes burned with starlight and his wings were burning off stardust, making them glow a variety of bright colors.

Sometimes Jophiel forgot he was only five. He carried himself like their father so often that he seemed much older. Especially when Azrael was involved.

Lucifer watched himself reach for Azrael and tuck her against his chest as his younger self sat on the marble floor. He wrapped his wings around his baby sister and let his light seep into her.

Azrael curled into him and whimpered until her shivered finally ceased enough for her to talk.

_"Sammy-el…"_

Samael offered his sister a comforting smile. Unbeknownst to the pair, their father landed a few feet away, having flown out of the mostly dark night sky.

_"Azzie-Rae,"_ Samael returned, leaning down to bump his nose against Azrael's. He managed to get a little giggle from her, but it faded quickly. She snuggled closer to him.

_"Sammy-el go far'way?"_ she asked.

Samael's smile was apologetic. _"Sort of, Azzie. Dad didn't want to make a star too close to home, or where he plans on putting the humans, just in case."_ He glanced toward his elder sister. _"Did she call for me?"_

Jophiel nodded. _"Aloud mostly."_

_"It may have to do with us being in another realm, Samael,"_ God chimed. _"And you were using your powers quite extensively."_

_"Yeah…"_ Samael agreed, frowning. _"Sorry, Azzie. I didn't know I wouldn't hear you."_

Azrael hugged him tighter. _"All better."_

God crouched down to run a hand over Azrael's hair. _"One day we'll understand your cold spells, Rae. Until then, I heard your sister. So if you know Samael and I are off somewhere, call for me, alright?"_

She nodded against Samael's shoulder.

Jophiel offered her father a full explanation of the event, from the time Azrael first spoke up to reaching the top of the observatory stairs. But she was mindful of her phrasing over some parts.

_"You and Sammy are the only ones whose light actually helps her,"_ she said slowly. _"So it seemed pointless to let Raph take her to Mum."_

Lucifer noticed the approving, grateful expression on his father's face. Something his younger self had never noticed since he was too busy cheering up Azrael.

_"You're a good girl, Jophie. Thank you for bringing your sister here. I agree, even with the wait, she's much happier now than she may have been."_

Jophiel's smile was brittle.

Lucifer woke up with burning eyes and a tightness in his chest.

He wanted to immediately blame the dream on his father, but he knew better. Visions from his father were rarely so clear. His doubt of the dream's origins were only fueled by the fact that it had been millennia since Lucifer had been able to glance through time.

He was never as proficient as his father. In fact he was often limited to reviewing events he'd already experienced, as the dream had been, but it still shook him to the core.

His eldest sister knew of their mother's odd behavior. She'd jumped in to spare Azrael from their mother's 'care'.

Jophiel knew. And if his gut feeling was correct, then she knew because she'd been on the receiving end.

Suddenly Lucifer wished he hadn't gotten in Uriel's way.

He blinked a few times and tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry.

"Water?" a somewhat familiar voice asked.

He glanced toward the source, spotting the figure in the far corner for the first time. His eyes widened.

She broke eye contact, shuffling uncomfortably towards the styrofoam cups and pitcher by his bedside. She poured him a cup of water and offered him a bittersweet smile.

"Hey, Samael. Or, I guess you prefer Lucifer now, huh?"

"Azzie Rae," he managed. "I thought Dad healed me up?"

"He did. I'm not here to collect your soul or anything," she said, shuffling awkwardly at his bedside.

He raised a brow at her and made a grand hand gesture towards the spot beside him. She was just as awkward sitting, but she fidgeted less, at least.

"Um," she began. "D-dad...called a few of us down last night."

Lucifer blinked. "After I fell asleep, surely," he muttered to himself, steadfastly ignoring his memories from the night before. He didn't have the energy to dissect them… he should call Linda today, in fact. She'd help him.

"Yeah," Azrael said. "He was at your place. Looked really tired. And sad… He uh, gave us a condensed version of what was going on. And told us what _really_ happened when you...well it wasn't really you, was it? But the whole...rebellion mess."

Lucifer's skin prickled with anxiety.

Azrael started picking at the frayed edges of her skirt. "Um…"

He waited, his own patience surprising him a tad, but then he never had coped well when Azrael was upset - even if he was going insane internally, he still wanted to give her time to sort her thoughts.

Old habits die hard, he supposed.

But he didn't expect tears to fill her eyes or her lips to twitch due to the strain of controlling her expression.

"D-dad said you might not be ready to talk to us," she began, her voice strained. "But…"

Lucifer felt his expression pinch with worry and confusion. Surely she wasn't upset that one little bullet managed to go through his wings _and_ his arm? The cut from Maze's blade was already healed. He wasn't dying…

"I just," Azrael began again, "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

Lucifer blinked, his dream-addled brain finally starting to catch up with the situation. Azrael was guilt-ridden and yet she was the first of his siblings to reach out. It seemed his sister hadn't changed much. She always was the first one to chase after him if he was angry or upset, always more concerned with making sure he was okay, or fixing things if he happened to be cross with her - though that was particularly rare.

She came to him to apologize. To _confess_ her wrongdoings and, he assumed, be judged to a degree.

"Sorry for what, exactly?" he asked her. For a moment he panicked, thinking something had happened to the detective or the spawn, but Azrael's behavior made him think this was a personal matter.

And...a part of him wanted to believe - _hoped_ \- that his father wouldn't let that particular worst-case scenario happen after everything else the last few days had held.

"For not visiting," Azrael began with a sniff. "For not _thinking_ and realizing that Dad never actually told any of us that we couldn't see you. For not having the stones to fight back on a rule I _assumed_ was in place that I fucking _hated_. Just... I'm so sorry, Sam. And I needed to tell you since I know now. I didn't want to wait and let you think I wasn't thinking about you."

"Well then," Lucifer began, feeling as far out of his element as he ever had when Azrael came to him upset. "Message delivered, Gabriel Two. I can only assume you think I'm angry or inclined to shout at you. Surprisingly I'm... not. That is to say, yes I was quite upset with everyone, especially in the beginning. Now…"

He trailed off. He really needed to talk to Linda, she could help him organize his thoughts.

"I don't... have the energy to be upset," he said slowly. "I've certainly not been pleased all this time but... I suppose I'm trying to swallow my pride a bit."

Azrael gave him a glassy, doe-eyed look that made him scowl.

"Dad's sake, you've hardly changed have you? Once a manipulative little devil, always one."

Azrael wiped her eyes and grinned at him. "Shut up, prat. I'm just...happy you're talking to me."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Yes well apparently only one of our parents is a manipulative, lying waste of light, and I'd rather be an apple very far from that tree if it's all the same to you."

Azrael reached out and took his hand, holding it tightly. "I missed you," she told him.

He was saved from answering by a hesitant knock on the door.

"Ah, Miss Lopez, what a pleasant surprise," he said, belatedly noticing the tension between Ella and his sister.

Azrael looked sheepish. "Uh, I can explain?"

Ella shook herself, readjusting the box balanced in one hand and keeping a careful hold on the coffees in her other arm. "No need. Big guy mentioned it when I got to the crime scene. Well, he said you're not a ghost. I put the rest together myself."

She turned towards Lucifer with a bright smile. "I woke up to a post-it note this morning telling me you were being released. I thought Rae-Rae left it at first, but now I'm not sure. Either way - I was told you might benefit from some company and a decent breakfast."

Azrael grabbed the coffees from her so she could set the rest of her things down. Ella thanked her, spun the box around, and lifted the lid with a game show host's flourish.

"Ta-da! _Donuts_!"

Lucifer offered her his most charming smile and plucked a chocolate donut for himself. "You shouldn't have, Miss Lopez."

Ella wrinkled her nose at him. "Oh hush. There's not a ton for me to do in the lab. The whole Pierce case is really odd and all. I think it's gonna be passed off to the feds. And besides, I wanted to check on you."

Azrael started to look uncomfortable again, so Lucifer gestured between the two women with his donut. "What's this then?"

Ella perked up a bit at the question, glanced at Azrael, and shrugged. "I was in a bad car accident as a kid. Our friendly-" she gave Azrael a look and held up her hands for double quotations "- _ghost_ over here has been visible to me ever since."

"Yeah…" said Azrael. "About that. I might have one more confession to make…"

Ella checked with the nurses that Lucifer could have a cup of coffee before Azrael began explaining how she befriended Ella and eventually convinced her to move to L.A., knowing she'd cross paths with Lucifer if she did so.

"I didn't think I'd be able to play a major role in your lives, since Ella had asked me to leave her be, understandably, and well...I didn't think I'd ever see you again, Luci, so uh...surprise? I friendshipped you?" Azrael shrugged. "Sorry not sorry?"

Ella only shrugged. "It _did_ work out, so I guess I'm not mad. But you could've clued me in on the fact that I wasn't insane for being able to see you sooner. So not cool."

"Yeah," Azrael admitted. "It's not like my brother announces his non-humanity with _flawless success_ or anything."

Ella made a face. "Fair point."

Lucifer's nerves had settled since waking up from his oddly stressful dream, allowing him to finally relax against his pillows and lick traces of icing from his fingers. Without prompting, or even taking her attention off Azrael, Ella held her own donut in her mouth and offered him the box again.

He'd have a proper breakfast when he got home.

Suddenly remembering the company waiting his penthouse, Lucifer hesitantly decided to check on his guest.

_...Dad?_

_Samael?_ floated back into his mind instantly, and Lucifer tried to ignore the fissure of anxiety that dissipated as a result.

He took a steadying breath, and a bite of donut, before responding.

_Morning._

* * *

It nearly noon by the time Samael shuffled out of the elevator. His father instantly noticed the strain and fatigue in his posture, and realized his son's light had dimmed again.

His worry was so instantaneous that he forgot to ask Samael to accept his help before giving it. His wings extended on reflex, the nearest one gently wrapping around Samael's shoulders as God fed light through them.

"Samael, what happened?" he asked. "You shouldn't be using your light but you also shouldn't be having issues _replenishing_ it."

To God's surprise, Samael leaned into his wing, his unfocused eyes drooping.

"Weird dream. Lots of humans to deal with. I'm _terribly_ tired but I'd rather not sleep if it's all the same to you," Samael murmured.

Chloe sighed. "He started getting loopy about an hour ago but he insisted on finishing his statement. That said, he freaked out four different people by telling them things from their past? Well. The first three were that. The last one he called unjust and threatened to send his 'tied favorite brother' down once they 'were on speaking terms again' and Lucifer knew 'whether he still gives a damn or not.'"

God managed a small smile despite his concern for his son. "Michael may have been quite pleased to be summoned by you under those circumstances, Samael. It wouldn't be the first time you sensed a human's true nature and teamed up with one of your siblings."

He gently guided Samael to the couch and helped him lay down, keeping a wing laid over him. His son was, unsurprisingly, too out of it to respond to his gentle teasing.

"What sort of dream are you so adamantly against having again?" God asked. "You need to rest."

Samael's broken chuckles sounded warbled due to his fatigue and just a tad unhinged. "_The_ dreams, Dad!" he whispered. "They're back again, bloody things. I think all my old powers are returning and I'm not sure I want them, so if it's your doing, please stop."

God frowned. "I didn't take them away. Just as I didn't take your brother's wings or your 'devil face'. Though I'd be happy to rid you of those scars if you wished…"

He watched Samael start to relax under his wing, even though light was no longer being fed into him, and realized how desperately his son needed to sleep. "I'll do my best to keep all of your dreams at bay, if you wish."

Samael's eyes were unfocused but hopeful when he peeled them open long enough to meet his gaze.

"Would you?" he asked. "I don't...want to see them anymore."

Chloe quietly walked to the other sofa, worry pinching her features as God asked, "See who, Little Star?"

Samael's eyes closed as his lips twitched into a frown. Even then, he seemed too tired to be sad properly.

"Any of you," he murmured. "From before everything. When they still cared…" his lips trembled for a moment. "When Mum didn't."

God instantly understood. "They still love you, Samael, as do I. We never stopped...as for your mother...what all did you see?"

He managed a small shrug. "No...firsthand. Just….Jophie and Azzie at the 'servatory… I promised Jophie I'd hurt anyone who hurt her…"

God hummed, his smile fond as he ran his fingers through Samael's hair. "I recall a little angel keeping that promise despite the consequences for doing so."

Samael shook his head. "Didn't keep m'word," he mumbled. "Mum's free an' s'my fault."

"Your mother is somewhere so far away that she can never hurt my children again," God said, his tone gentle but not lacking conviction. "She may be stronger than her children, but she isn't stronger than me. Why do you think she had to manipulate her most powerful son just to deal any sort of blow to me? I'd say you've protected all of your siblings just fine and more than fulfilled your eons old promise to Jophiel." God thought for a moment. "Although I'm rather confused as to why you're holding yourself to a promise you made to your _older_ sister when you were _two_ because she was fighting with Amenadiel and you weren't standing for it. She even said it was _her_ job to protect _you_, not the other way around."

Samael grunted indignantly. "Don't need it."

God snorted. "Her protection? But you think she needs _yours_? Are you sure you're thinking of the right sister? You do have quite a few elder ones."

Samael managed to briefly glare at him, but his lips twitched for a moment.

"Jophiel's only concern was keeping you younger ones from bearing the brunt of your mother's emotional instability," God continued, no longer teasing. "She handled her own as best as I could expect her to, but she also jumped in and made sure your mother focused on her whenever she could spare one of her little siblings. It's part of where she gained her strength and it certainly fine-tuned her ability to corral a bunch of little angels - _including_ the willful one."

Samael exhaled heavily and managed to nod, but the last of his energy seemed to be leaving him.

"Go to sleep, Little Star," God soothed. "I'll keep your dreams at bay."

It only took a moment for Samael to drift, and another for God to will the space around Samael silent, sound blocking, so he and the detective could speak without disturbing him.

"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked after he assured her Samael couldn't hear them.

"I believe so," said God. "He's been tremendously resilient his entire life. He survived the fall. Picked himself back up. And his base personality wasn't damaged much by it."

Chloe frowned, but nodded. "It's just...the only other time he's ever been close to this degree of untethered was when his brother died."

God sighed with tired resignation. "Uriel, yes… Samael wouldn't have taken that so hard if his brother hadn't forced him to deal the blow."

Chloe had been looking at Lucifer, but her eyes snapped up to God in shock. "Lucifer _killed_ his _brother_?"

God shrugged. "Uriel forced his hand and refused to obey all summons to return home. It was when his mother's spirit inhabited Charlotte Richards. Uriel, who received much of his mother's crueler attentions, decided to take her punishment into his own hands once she escaped hell. Amenadiel and Samael had already been tricked into giving their mother the benefit of the doubt, and Uriel would've been far too weak to face them had their powers not been self-stunted.

"Uriel used your safety to try and manipulate Samael. He was the master of patterns, able to manipulate events long before they happen. You humans call it the Butterfly Effect. Uriel plays a piano key in an old church one evening, three days later you and your daughter would've died in either a severe car accident or an attempted robbery."

Chloe exhaled in disbelief. "Lucifer...killed his brother for _me_?" she repeated. "But I'm just another random human."

God stood, since Samael was deeply asleep, and replaced his wing with a nearby throw blanket before tucking the appendages away. Then he gave Chloe a wry smile.

"You really don't know how much you mean to my son, do you?" he said. "Angels aren't like humans. They grow up surrounded by family. Romantic interests are a direct result of humanity's existence. Even then, this particular son of mine only ever had passing friendships with humans before you. And dating, well, only three of my children have ever gotten close enough to humans to love them in any fashion. My daughter Azrael shares an intricate, sisterly bond with your friend Ella. My son Michael fell for a human woman a few decades ago. Samael is the third. There are many humans he's grown to care about, you in particular."

A light blush stained her cheeks. "Well. We're partners."

God didn't bother pointing out that they both knew her words were a significant understatement.

"He'll bounce back," said God. "He always does."

Chloe nodded, mostly to herself as her thoughts churned. "I think he scheduled a therapy appointment earlier. I'll call Linda to see how long he has to sleep or if he needs to reschedule."

God shot her a grateful look. "If she'd be willing to come here if necessary, I'd be in her debt. I'm certain Samael had much he wished to discuss with her if he made an appointment for today."

Chloe dialed Linda as she stepped out onto the balcony, wondering how her 'tribemate' would react to being in God's debt.

* * *

Thanks to the brief summary Chloe gave Linda while Lucifer was in the hospital, the good doctor was hardly surprised to learn that Lucifer had exhausted himself.

"I'll be over this evening," she promised. "Want me to grab some takeout? The Devil likes orange chicken so I can only assume God does."

The elevator dinged, announcing her presence a moment before the inviting scent of Chinese takeout could. Linda was glad for the myriad of distractions. It gave her a chance to analyze the situation.

Lucifer didn't look as of he'd been awake long, and despite his...deflated appearance, he was stiff. His usual mask wasn't quite in place, but he did his damndest to smile at her like nothing was wrong.

Chloe, as expected, was keeping her anxiety locked up as tightly as she could manage. Linda wondered how she was juggling the truth about her partner and whatever additional drama had unfolded in Lucifer's life. Better than expected, by the looks of things.

The one thing Linda didn't expect was God to be such an open book. Or for his resemblance to his son to be quite so striking.

"Well, that explains a lot," she muttered to herself.

The bags of takeaway were given a new home at the bar as she tried to wrap her head around the picture before her.

Lucifer stood gingerly, a stark contrast to his usual fluid bravado, and made his way to her. She wasn't sure if he looked more fragile because of his gait or because of the throw wrapped around his shoulders.

"Alright, Doctor?" he asked.

She nodded, sliding a box of orange chicken and a pair of chopsticks towards him. "Just... adjusting. I just assumed, given Amenadiel, that none of you resemble your parents."

"Samael is unique," chimed God from the sofa. "A few of my daughters share a characteristic or two of mine, but my son is the only one of his siblings to directly favor myself or my ex-wife."

Linda nodded slowly, staring at the wall behind the bar. "And...that explains more."

"Explains what?" Lucifer asked. His box of chicken was opened, but he was fishing through the bags.

She slid him a package of egg rolls and some duck sauce as he found a container of rice.

"It brings a few of your mannerisms into perspective. Among...other things," she said, hesitating to say too much aloud. Though, when she thought about it, she'd be surprised if God didn't already know her concerns.

"I do."

She closed her eyes for a second, getting a firm grip on her bearings.

"I'm actually glad you don't trust me despite my son's...gradual contentedness with my presence," God continued. "It's much different seeing his friends looking out for him from this perspective. Though I'm hardly surprised he's surrounded himself with those keen on thinking for themselves."

Staring at the bartop, Linda said, "I've gone up against the divine before and I'm the Devil's therapist. As long as you're not here against _his_ will, I'm satisfied. Otherwise, I don't care who the hell you are. Lucifer is my patient but he's also my friend."

"A friend you promised never to risk your life for again," Lucifer said quickly. "I appreciate the sentiment but he's not here to torment me. Shocking, I know, yes. But there have been a few...major revelations about certain...scenarios from my past."

The way he said it, the reluctance and visible shame, made Linda soften. "You haven't told me all the details of your fall. At least, not what led up to it."

Lucifer nodded, but wouldn't meet her gaze and picked lazily at his chicken. "Yes, well, as it turns out, my mother…"

Linda eyed him patiently, ignoring the quiet pang of panic at the mention of _Goddess_. Her heart ached with the thought of what sort of damage that woman could've wrought to her own children.

"My mother…" Lucifer tried, once again faltering. Linda pretended not to notice the tears building in his eyes. "... _Lied_," he finally managed. "About...a great deal of things. And... hurt some of my siblings, and-"

"Told Samael that I would've killed him had she not 'convinced me to send him to hell instead'," God said gently.

Linda wished she could be surprised. Instead, she was merely worried about her friend's mental fortitude.

"Lucifer," she said carefully. "Did she ever hurt _you_?"

He shook his head slowly. "Not...directly. Unless I was too young to remember."

"There's a stomach-turning thought," God muttered, perching himself against the edge of the couch.

Linda took her gaze from Lucifer to quickly analyze his father. There was a lot of worry written all over his face. And pain. But not unlike his son, there was a baseline of anger under it all. Anger she hoped either stemmed from concern for his children or was aimed at his ex-wife.

"So what _did_ happen?" Linda asked.

"A massive, foolish misunderstanding," God answered roughly. "It's a story better absorbed when your mind isn't plagued by hunger, Dr. Martin."

"Yes," Lucifer agreed. "Please, get settled, my dear. This may take a bit."

Linda brought the rest of the food to the coffee table and offered Chloe a smile as she joined her on the smaller couch.

"How are you taking this all in?" she asked. "My brain went to mush for about a week."

Chloe shrugged as she opened her food container. "Haven't had the time for a brain melt and Lucifer was really hurt so I think I adapted on autopilot."

The pair glanced towards the bar where their subdued friend remained, sometimes eating but mostly moving his food around with his chopsticks.

"He's taking some of this really poorly," Chloe said quietly. "I'm worried about him."

Linda leaned into Chloe's side for a few beats of tribe solidarity before offering her friend a slight smile. "That's why we're here. To be here for him and help him get through this."

Chloe nodded with more of her usual conviction and started to relax into the couch.

Linda spent most of the meal quietly watching Lucifer and his father. The former eventually shook himself out of the triggering headspace he'd fallen into, though his demeanor remained subdued compared to normal.

It was quite telling how they pair interacted. Lucifer seemed to be clinging to what aspects of his usual demeanor her could while simultaneously trying to make himself as small as possible. God, on the other hand, was being cautious around his son, and seemed to be over-offering choice while talking with Lucifer. He was blatantly walking on eggshells, but that fact gave Linda some hope.

She knew Lucifer's adolescence had been interrupted. She knew he trusted authority figures about as far as a breeze could push them. But finding the crux of his fallout with his father, mending their relationship, and possibly reconnecting with the rest of his family? She couldn't imagine how that would change him. Not without more understanding of the relationships involved, but she could hope.

And she could try to help.


	4. Mending Torn Seams

Chloe frowned at her phone and sighed to herself, gaining Lucifer's attention.

"Something the matter, Detective?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. Just wondering though…" she turned to meet his gaze, trying to keep her expression as warm as possible. "Do you need me to stay for this? Dan's asking if I'm getting Trixie tonight, but if you need me to stay, I will."

Lucifer's expression remained passive, but Chloe could see the panic that flared in his eyes. He cleared his throat before answering.

"I think," he managed, his voice unsteady, "that it may be beneficial to, shall we say, carry this burden on my own. For a while at least. Not that I don't _want_ you to stay, of course…"

She gave him a bittersweet smile. "Band-aid method?"

He shrugged. "I suppose."

"Well, in that case, I guess I'm gonna go get Trixie. But call me if you need anything, alright? Even if it's just to...talk through things or whatever."

He nodded and tried to smile. "You have my word."

Linda saw through his brave front, but decided he may be partly right. It might benefit him to confront his family issues on the same terms he'd been forced to confront his 'punishment' - alone. Or at least, without the full safety net of his support system.

Chloe left a few minutes later after hugging both Linda and Lucifer. The latter of whom steeled himself once the elevator doors closed.

Linda offered him a kind smile. "Shall we clean up a bit first? I normally wouldn't recommend this, but maybe a drink is in order?"

Lucifer nodded numbly before he started picking up leftovers and trash.

Linda sat back and let him have his moment of stalling once it became clear how meticulous he was being about little details - like refolding the takeout container lids just so and organizing extra packets of chopsticks behind the counter.

God, on the other hand, lacked any mundane tasks to hide his feelings behind, allowing Linda to analyze him with ease. Though psychoanalyzing God while he psychoanalyzed his son was more than a little ironic in her opinion.

"You two were quite close," she observed, an educated guess based on how deeply Lucifer's issues with his father were rooted, and a plethora of other things.

Lucifer shrugged from behind the bar and God, without taking his eyes away from his son, was the one to give her a reply she could work with. "I, admittedly, have never had a closer bond with one of my children. Most of his siblings were equally attached to myself and their mother, and formed tighter bonds amongst their chosen favorite siblings. Samael was the first to favor a parent before building his cluster of siblings."

Linda's expression softened at the notes of pride and wistfulness in God's voice. "And how old were you, Lucifer, when your bond with your father _really_ started?"

She expected him to mumble an answer, begrudgingly joining the conversation, but he just stared at the bartop with a pinched expression. A few moments of tense silence hovered between the three before God quietly chimed in again.

"It started before he was born," he said softly. "My children aren't human, though they're similar enough where it matters for the sake of human understanding. A major difference between the two is that celestial children can sometimes retain...impressions or weak memories of their life en utero. Mostly emotions from what I understand…" he trailed off.

Linda blinked. "So, just like human babies can favor the sound of a voice they hear often while in the womb and react to it…"

God nodded. "Samael could sense my light before he was born, knew my voice, and if he was awake he'd always respond to, say, my hand on my wife's stomach. Press a hand or foot against mine if he could reach. Or just press his head into my palm. And after he was born, it was much the same. Azrael was more inclined towards their mother, but their bond wasn't half as strong as ours, honestly."

A few puzzle pieces started fitting together in Linda's mind. "That explains a bit of the 'favorite son' stuff I've heard between him and Amenadiel."

God's expression was more than a little guilty. "I never intended for any of my children to feel lesser and Samael never really had a complex growing up, either. I fear that bitter competitiveness is a result of their mother's influence. My and Samael's personalities went well together. I love him just as much as I love my other children."

Linda shrugged. "As harsh as it may sound, you're allowed to _like_ some of your children better than others. The way personalities work makes it tricky not to. I've met plenty of parents who've -reluctantly- admitted to disliking their children's personalities at times. Either while they were growing up or once they became adults. So...as long as you're not an intentionally abusive dick about it, your feelings are pretty normal."

She glanced towards Lucifer. "And in that close-knit of a family dynamic, it would also be expected for a damaged sense of trust to form if there was a major misunderstanding of some kind that put pressure on such an intimate bond."

Lucifer remained closed off. If she couldn't tell he was listening, and likely just processing something unpleasant on his own for the moment, she would've pushed him. Her gut told her he needed a minute, though.

God sighed to himself and spoke up again. "If anyone could be considered at fault, I take the blame. I've already explained some of this to Samael, but around the time Gabriel was born, my wife began to change for the worse. I thought it was a side effect of birth and pregnancy, and suggested we hold off on having more children. Despite her...less than positive behavior, my wife convinced me that having more children would make her happier again, so we had more. For a little while, as long as she was pregnant, she was mostly herself. Post-birth, she'd transform into a hateful, short tempered, conniving woman I didn't recognize…" God took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, eons of guilt and fatigue weighing on his shoulders. "I learned, shortly before Samael was born, that these bouts of uncharacteristic behavior had actually started much earlier than originally suspected, but her occasional verbal cruelty towards our children started with my eldest daughter - Jophiel.

"As I said earlier, Samael is the only of his siblings to _truly_ favor one of his parents, but Jophiel was the first of my children to share my hair and eye color. Celestial genetics aren't nearly as predictable as human ones, as you might have guessed since you seem to know my eldest son. She hid it at the time, but I believe my wife was bitter, jealous, that our first daughter didn't favor her. She was rarely harsh towards our eldest boys, but when I wasn't around, she was neglectful or outright cruel to Jophie as she got older… Jophiel didn't work up the courage to confide in me until Samael and Azrael were born. She'd worked out that her mother was harsher on the siblings who shared even a minute characteristic with myself, or developed gifts I was especially proud of. Samael not only looked just like me, but his light has always been the brightest of all my offspring. Jophiel adored him from day one and despite fearing that I already knew, and simply didn't care, she risked my indifference to tell me the truth… Omnipotence is an interesting thing, Dr. Martin. If I don't peer through time with a keen eye, I can overlook things. So, say I wish to check on my children's safety and happiness. If I'm not specifically looking for them _in that exact moment_, I'll likely just see something that gives me a general sense of how they're doing that day. So _Is Jophiel safe?_ Might show me an image of her playing with her siblings..._after_ she's already been tormented somehow by her mother. In the early days, I didn't know this weakness in foresight existed. So I never foresaw my wife's cruelty. Not until I knew to look for it...and then I started to discreetly protect my children."

Linda pursed her lips in thought. "Why not separate properly? Surely you wanted to alert the rest of your children so you knew how far her reach went?"

God shrugged, still shamefaced. "She was with child again and I blamed it on the toll pregnancy often took on her body. Even with my abilities, I could offer her little relief through the worst of her symptoms. She was my wife, the mother of my children. I forgave her, to an extent. Enough that I didn't want to ruin how any more of her children saw her."

Linda nodded. "Again, a completely understandable response. It likely felt reasonable, especially since you knew how to better look out for your children going forward. You had no reason to consider that decision unsafe at the time. Hindsight, however..."

He gave her a brittle smile. "Hindsight indeed… As it happens, she did a bit better for a time after Samael was born, according to Jophiel. His twin, Azazel, was absolutely smitten with his mother from the moment they were born and stuck to her the way Samael stuck to me. For a time, things seemed normal, better even. We still waited until Samael and Azrael were about a millennia old before having more children, but all seemed well. Samael started to make his first balls of light, sprouted his wings earlier than any of my children ever had… He even managed to help his mother's suffering. He can replicate the light of others and give it a touchable, physical shape. I believe you humans have something similar called mood jewelry? It prevented his mother from suffering in silence or getting used to her own pain. She turned the two balls of light into earrings. Myself or Raphael could heal or ease her discomforts before she even realized they were creeping up again… It was a _blessing_." God's lips twitched into a sad smile for a moment. "A blessing from a _toddler_."

Linda allowed herself to digest that information for a few moments. It was easy for her to dissociate Lucifer from the biblical _Lucifer_, since she knew most of the bible was inaccurate anyway. But even though he mentioned his Light Bringer status in the past, it hadn't really _clicked._

She tried to shake the amazed fuzz from her head.

"So," said Linda "let's switch to the other half of this narrative for a second." She glanced towards the bar. "Lucifer? I assume you would've spoken up if you felt any part of this story so far was untrue?"

His head bobbed absently. "All true, Doctor."

She continued her gentle prodding. "How about I ask you a few things then? Let's start with why you've never mentioned your twin - who I assume is fraternal."

"He was," Lucifer answered. "He led the rebel forces I was given all the credit for. I'm not sure what happened to him exactly. I haven't seen him since I fell and we were never close."

Linda noticed God's expression had changed a moment before he spoke.

"I mentioned, Samael, that I realized most of what truly happened as you fell… I think the realization was written all over my face, or perhaps your sister had a moment of foresight as well…" he exhaled bitterly. "Jophiel wound up with the dismantled flaming sword. Azazel wasn't half as clever of a fighter as he thought himself to be. Not in the face of a protective older sister, at any rate."

Lucifer stared at his father, his face blank but his eyes just beginning to burn.

God tried to give his son an encouraging smile. "He baited her, you know. Tried to convince her I'd cast her out too if she killed him. She told him she was following you down anyway. I had to explain an awful lot to her so she wouldn't, since that wouldn't have led you to where you're headed now. She hasn't been very happy with me since, but she wanted you to find your happiness as well…"

Lucifer finally blinked and swallowed tightly. "Does she still have tea on Sundays?" he asked quietly.

The smallness of his voice made Linda frown. The question itself did the same to God.

"She does not," he said slowly. "Nor would she answer my summons if I tried to call her down. She's nearly as stubborn as you are, Samael, and she told me years ago that if I wanted her to see you again, I'd show you the way back home."

"I don't want to go back to Heaven," Lucifer said. "Not permanently. _This_ is my home now." He gestured to the penthouse around them.

"I've told her," God said. "She understands. I think she knows you'll be adverse to the idea for a multitude of reasons. She may be trying to give you a positive to balance out the scales."

Lucifer frowned. "I'll think about it."

God nodded. "That's all I ask. Your sister is the demanding one."

"You and Jophiel sound close," Linda prodded gently. "Why?"

To her surprise, Lucifer actually looked a bit embarrassed. "She's my eldest sister," he said, as if that explained everything.

God caught Linda's gaze and chuckled. "Jophiel's position used to be as one of the muses. She has the gift of knowing music before she's heard it all. She's the strongest singer of family, except for maybe Samael, among other things. Like her nurturing and loving nature. She was always so helpful with her younger siblings, but she formed the closest bonds with a small handful. Samael's cluster, essentially."

"And who else was part of this little...clique, so to speak?" Linda asked. "And why? Lucifer - you've always referred to your brothers and sisters in bulk, meaning _all_ of them. You've rarely mentioned any by name, except Amenadiel and Uriel."

"Amenadiel, Michael, Raphael, Jophiel, Gabriel, and Azrael," Lucifer said. He shrugged noncommittally. "One of my youngest sisters had started to imprint on me before the fall, but she was two at the time. I'm sure she doesn't remember me now."

"Yes she does," said God. "Again, you would need to visit home to see her. She flies fine for her age, but not nearly as often or for as long of distances as many of you lot had and she's always been on the tiny side. I'd have to bring her down here and she hates flying along as much as you ever did."

Lucifer's discomfort came back full force. "Why on _Earth_ does she remember me?"

God shrugged. "She has her own faint memories and her favorite elder siblings have told her every story of you they could think of when she asked. Her powers are also coming in quite well, if you were wondering."

"Does she still favor the arts?" Lucifer asked.

God gave him a gently pointed look. "She'd be very happy if you discovered that information for yourself."

Lucifer scoffed. "Naturally only one of my dear sisters decides to make things easy on me."

When he saw Linda's patiently expectant expression, he added, "Azrael visited me in the hospital this morning."

Linda smiled brightly. "That's _good_, Lucifer! Even small measures that start to mend things between you and your celestial family are important. Especially if you _do_ take a vacation to visit home. Is celestial dual citizenship a thing?"

"If they so wish it," God answered. "Only one other son has put down roots here, so far." He met Lucifer's gaze. "Michael."

"What the me for?" Lucifer asked.

"He met someone," God said simply. "You have a sister-in-law. And that's all your brother would be comfortable with me sharing. Though there's much he'd wish to tell you himself."

Lucifer mulled over that information for a moment. "Where do they live?" he asked.

"Closer than you'd think," God answered cryptically. "In part to be nearer to you, yes. Some of your siblings were a few years or decades away from reconnecting with you on their own before this Cain business."

Again, Linda noted how several seemingly mild statements of fact from God seemed to knock Lucifer completely off kilter.

"The...trials I've faced with Cain's arrival…" Lucifer began. "You didn't expect them?"

God sighed heavily and put his head in his hands as he groaned. "Had I realized _just_ how negatively your impression of my feelings towards you would be damaged, Samael, I hope I might've done something sooner to fix it…" He gave his son a sorrow-filled stare. "Cain would've crossed your path eventually, yes, but under much different circumstances and years from now. That said...I think the good doctor here was onto something when she suggested drinks."

Lucifer nodded blankly, lost deep in his thoughts once more as he turned around to pour three drinks. He guessed a rum and coke for Linda, which she confirmed. Lucifer's forethought on her wanting something sippable and milder to the scotch he poured for himself and his father seemed like another small, but good indicator of how he was coping.

"So, " she began, giving Lucifer an approving, encouraging smile when he sat on the opposite end of the couch his father was on. "You've both mentioned how there was a lot of…-let's call it _drama_\- surrounding Lucifer's fall."

"Yes," said God. "My ex-wife orchestrated the entire thing with the help of Samael's twin. She made comments that caused Samael to question my judgement, motives, etc., while also expressing 'concerns' to me about his growing instability and temper. Both sides of the story were enforced when Samael began to question me on things and we'd argue - me trying to prevent and correct dangerous habits in my son, and Samael thinking his entire life, his autonomy, was a well-disguised lie."

Linda winced in sympathy. "Ouch. The two of you argued a lot then, before the fall?"

"Quite," Lucifer muttered, staring out the balcony windows. "It built up for about a millennia. We grew apart. Dad tried, I think, to mend things a bit before my birthday but by then I thought the version of him I grew up with was a falsehood. I saw it all as more manipulations. We bickered, _loudly_, where most of the family could hear. I declared my intentions to leave, and as I began to explain I wasn't leaving without my belongings, some of my siblings started to rally."

Despite his gaze remaining outside, Linda gave Lucifer her full attention. So far, this was the most he'd spoken in her presence. She hoped he didn't tighten back up and shut down after working through this part of his history.

"You didn't organize them," she said. "I know you didn't, Lucifer. I presume Azazel did."

God chuckled dryly and sipped his scotch. "I mean you no offense, Doctor, but you know my son a fraction as well as I do yet you reached that conclusion with conviction… _I_ should have known it wasn't Samael. But I was angry. Hurt. The uprising was just the cherry on top of a series of perceived betrayals I didn't understand. There was a lot of fighting after that, of course. I refused to lay a hand on my children, but they'd done so to each other in the past - even angels play rough. Samael ended up against Amenadiel and Michael. He knocked them both unconscious. Unbeknownst to me, he hadn't won that fight unscathed. One of his wings was broken…"

Linda was nearly choking on the tension in the room. What surprised her was the source. There wasn't any animosity aimed between the pair across from her, rather they both seemed to be suffering from levels of self loathing, regret, and guilt that was too heavy for her to comprehend.

She was surprised to note that God was in a worse shape than Lucifer.

"I didn't know his wing was broken until he was already falling."

A beat of heavy silence passed before a chill ran down Linda's spine and the words sunk in fully. Her eyes immediately moved towards Lucifer. She expected more of a reaction out of him than the muscle that twitched in his jaw, but then she supposed this information may not be new to him.

"So he..._fell_," she said carefully, acutely aware of how fragile the men before her were emotionally. She hesitated over the types of questions she wanted to prod them with, both afraid of the answers and afraid of the reactions to said answers.

"I didn't want to let him fall," God said. "I've told him this already. When I realized his wing was broken I also immediately saw new paths form in his future. On one path in particular, his happiness in life knew no bounds. He would have to suffer along the way, but he would be happy in the end. I decided that was more important than what I wanted - which was to fly down, catch him, bring him home, and fix what my wife destroyed between us… Even if that meant Samael hated me for eternity."

Linda took a few deep breaths, her heart pounding. She ached for them both, but especially for Lucifer. All this time he'd spent believing he'd been abandoned on purpose when really...it had been more complicated than either of them imagined his issues would be.

"How...long," she said quietly. "How long has it been since the two of you have spoken properly, before Lucifer and Chloe were attacked."

Lucifer exhaled shortly through his nose. God was silent.

"I know millennia don't mean the same things to humans," she continued.

"It's sort of synonymous with _year_," Lucifer said. "A millennia is a rough equivalent to the amount of time that passes in a single Heaven-year. A two millennia old angel looks about the same as a human two year old."

"You were made in our image," God muttered. "To an extent. There are many similarities."

Linda nodded. "Right. So. How old were you, Lucifer, when you fell and how old are you now?"

Lucifer shrugged. "Time in hell isn't the same as in Heaven and both exist on a slower setting than this realm does. I never bothered attempting to count."

"You're twenty-nine," God said quietly. "He was almost sixteen."

Linda inhaled sharply, but tried to keep her shock from showing beyond that gut-reaction.

Lucifer's score of bitter _teenage rebellion_ comments made _so_ much more sense now. His literal celestial adolescence had been cut in half, he was forced out of his home, cut off from everyone he'd ever known, and…

She pinched the upper part of her nose, mostly to counter the pressure building around her eyes. "Oh hell," she muttered. "That...just put a whole lot of stuff into perspective."

His insecurities, his cluelessness and anxiety where Chloe is concerned. His almost childlike black and white view of the world with situational smatterings of gray where needed. His bitterness about his historic legacy, yet simultaneous attachment to his 'Devil Side'. The self-mutilation with his wings, but also keeping them.

Facts and understanding slid around in her head like a never-ending stream of jigsaw pieces.

"Lucifer," she said carefully. "I need you to answer this next question seriously...and I want you to think about it for a moment, because your gut response may not be the _truest_ response."

He finally turned away from the window and frowned at her. "Alright."

She blinked a few times, breathing slowly to stave off tears. "How are you taking all of this? How are you _coping?"_

He looked away again. "I… I don't know," he said quietly. "I said as much to my sister this morning. I was _so angry_ before, and for a long time that was all I felt towards any of them but now?"

She blinked hard once or twice when his voice began to break on the words.

"_Now_," he continued, his agitation clear as he stood and began to pace from the far side of the piano to the balcony doors and back. "My mother _hurt_ and tormented my siblings. She manipulated me against my father, she made _me_ take the fall for her rebellion, she _broke my stars! _Dad dropped me, Michael broke my wing, they _all_ let me fall and _not once_ did _any of them visit_ or, or, or send a bloody _birthday card!_ But Jophie would've followed me down?! And bloody _Sariel_ remembers me? Has asked to hear stories of me? Michael lives vaguely nearby? Azrael's so blatantly repentant about it all that I can't bloody well stay mad at her, can I? Amenadiel I've seen more than I'd have liked and for mostly the wrong reasons but aside from trying to get me back to hell he treated me mostly the same… I just…"

Lucifer all but collapsed onto the piano bench and put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair.

He said something so quietly that Linda didn't catch it, but God's expression, his sudden stiffness, and the tears in his eyes told her he had heard his son just fine.

"Sammy," he began, his voice choked and he rounded the couch. "Sammy, Sammy, my Samael, you can have your family back and you can do so without sacrificing the families you've built for yourself here _or_ in Hell. If you want to have tea with Jophiel on Sunday morning and dinner with Chloe that evening, you may, my Little Star. The barriers you've assumed were in place never existed. You may come home whenever you wish for as long as you wish. Just please let me explain everything to the rest of your siblings first so there's no more fighting."

Linda looked away, trying to discreetly wipe her eyes in the process. All that time spent alone with nothing but lies and misunderstandings to base his perception of reality around. No wonder he found so much purpose working with Chloe.

When she finally regained a firm grip on her empathy and emotions, Linda found father and son slowly exiting a long-overdue embrace. They were both a little shaken, more than a little broken, but clearly in dire need of mending the ghost of a relationship she could still see.

For some reason, the nickname _Little Star_ kept repeating in her mind.

Then it clicked.

"Hold on a second," she said aloud, mostly to herself. "Little Star. Light Brighter aka the literal maker of stars…" She glanced at Lucifer, who seemed tired, twice his age, and resigned to something. "_Twinkle Twinkle_ is about _you_, isn't it?" she asked.

Lucifer glared up at his father, who wore a small, fond smile still slightly tinged with sadness.

"It is," God confirmed. "My brightest angel. My maker of stars. The original quote was actually the tail end of a motivational speech to cheer up a stressing cherub, but my exact words were _Samael, let there be light._ I didn't make the stars. At most I made some dust that became stars via my son."

"You made the universe together?" she guessed. They both nodded. "Wow. Okay, that makes my homework for you a little easier then."

They both stared at her expectantly.

"There are two things that I think will help mend the broken bond between you two," she began. "First, find something here, on Earth, to do together that you can both appreciate. A new way to bond. That's to be done before the next session we have like this - and we should probably have a few family sessions. Maybe your other siblings could join in down the road? - but your second bit of homework can be done when you're both a bit more comfortable with each other again… go make a new star together. Something old and new at the same time that honors time passed and marks a new era of understanding going forward. Sound good?"

God shrugged as Lucifer mulled it over. "I think I have a few ideas for shared experiences down here…"

Linda grimaced. "Please don't say orgies."

Lucifer gave her an admonishing look. "_Honestly._ And _I'm_ the devil."

Linda noted and filed God's adverse but silent reaction to Lucifer's comment for further reflection.

"Wine tasting," Lucifer announced, glancing towards his father. "If you're still interested in doing that of course...and...well, I suppose you haven't learned to cook since...everything?"

"I have not," said God.

Lucifer nodded decisively. "Right. _The Great British Baking Show: Masterclass_ bake-a-long marathon it is. And maybe a spa day or...something."

Linda tried to hide her smile, worrying how Lucifer would react if he knew how his immediate word-vomit of ideas seemed from this angle. Had he fully come to the conclusion that his negative feelings towards his family seemed rooted in his senses of abandonment and loneliness after the fall? Did he even realize how much he clearly missed his father?

Probably not. Not yet at least.

"Is there anything else immediately pressing the pair of you want to get off your chests tonight or shall we plan to do this again in a few days, or a week?" she asked. They'd bitten off a hefty bit of family issues tonight. She dared not risk taking on more than any of them could chew.

"I think maybe we should all retire for the evening, Doctor," said God. "You can go home and get some rest yourself, and perhaps my son will lounge on the balcony with me for a spell before we retire?"

Lucifer shrugged "I'm bringing the bourbon."

God smiled. "I insist."

Linda smiled with them as she stood. "Text me if you need anything, Lucifer."

He stood as well and hugged her tightly before she collected her purse and he walked her to the elevator.

"Thank you…" he murmured as the doors opened. "I know it's a lot to digest for us, so it must be for you as well."

"I'm your friend first, Lucifer," she said. "Therapist second. I just want you to be happy. If that means wrapping my head around some _Jerry Springer_ level celestial family drama bullshit, then I'll do that. I'm on your team. Always."

He gave her one of his genuine smiles. The soft, boyish ones that made her remind herself why it was very important that they _stop_ sleeping together. His being unwittingly in love with Chloe being a major, effective mood killer.

"Goodnight, Lucifer. Enjoy your down time with your father. Take it slow. You'll be fine," she said. "I really think you both will."

He offered her half-smile and a shrug. "Goodnight, Doctor."

The elevator doors closed. Lucifer dropped his strong front and let the fatigue wash over him. Eons of deflating, misplaced emotions weighed heavily on his shoulders.

He grabbed the bourbon and cinnamon scotch from behind the bar before joining his father outside on the cushioned chairs. He drank. He looked up nearby vineyards on his phone, recognized one who employed someone that owed him a favor, and sent an email to schedule a proper luxury tasting.

Then he Googled some of his favorite _Masterclass_ recipes and made a grocery list. Florentines. Baguettes. Chocolate Mousse Entremets. Tiramisu.

God watched his son fall asleep before he could type out _lemon custard tart_ and _cream horns_.

When Lucifer woke up in his bed some time later, he was disoriented for a few moments. Dressed, atop the blankets. Not usually how he fell asleep.

Then he heard the echo of the guest room door click shut down the hall.

The last two items he'd been trying to remember before he fell asleep were typed on the list in his phone, which was face up and plugged in on his nightstand.

He stripped down to his boxers, slid under the sheets properly, and slept easy for the first time in years.

* * *

**So I never posted this chapter over here last year (oops) and I just started coming back from an accidental year+ long forced break from fanfic overall - so congrats, here's the chapter 4 I forgot to give you...and the chapter 5 I've been slowly adding to while I've been away. :)**


	5. The First Twins

The morning started with omelettes and God's first caramel frappuccino - first unspiked, then spiked. Little conversation flowed between father and son, but their pensive quietness wasn't uncomfortable either.

Lucifer had even started to relax until a rustle of feathers from the balcony reached his ears. His reflexes were so ingrained he didn't even realize how much he tensed, how much his demeanor changed.

God knew humans gave his omnipotence too much credit, but where his Little Star was involved, he certainly felt all seeing in that moment.

Michael folded his wings away after a half glance at his once favorite little brother. He didn't even need his abilities to tell him that patience and calmness was the best way to approach Samael in his current state.

"If you'd like me to return later, say the word," he said, holding Samael's gaze despite how much he wanted to look away in shame. "Gabe said Rae came to see you. Naturally, everyone but Raph and Mennie are waiting for _my _lead. As if Mennie hasn't spent the most time with you lately."

Lucifer didn't know where to start, uncomfortably swallowing the now-bland final bite of his breakfast.

"Do you want me to step away a moment?" God asked.

Lucifer's response was knee-jerk and panicked. "_No!"_ he snapped. "Absolutely not!"

Michael's hurt was on clear display, but understanding quickly followed.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Sam," he said as gently as he could. "I know I'm probably the last brother you want to see, but I can't ask your forgiveness if I cower from facing my wrongdoings, can I?"

Lucifer chose not to respond, but his heavy breathing and rigid posture spoke for him.

Michael sighed and looked to his father for guidance. God raised a brow, an expression Michael was familiar with.

_You made your mess, Michael. You won't learn anything if I tell you how to fix it._

The words echoed through his memory, reminding him of the first time he caused Samael's wings harm. The irony made him nauseous.

Swallowing the tightness in his chest, Michael met his brother's gaze again. "There's someone I want to introduce you to, if you'll let me," he began. "I was never good with apologies, Sam. But I'd always fumble my way into expressing my sincerity anyway, remember? Consider this a somewhat planned fumble."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed before he spared his father a glance.

This time, God hid a smile behind his coffee. "I told you there were details about your brother's life here that he'd want to share with you himself…" he said smoothly. " I also mentioned he's settled somewhere 'vaguely nearby'... And yes, Michael was one of your most likely siblings to be the first to contact you if Cain hadn't crossed your path early."

The hard edges in Lucifer's posture softened slightly. "One of?"

An unsettling itch ran down Michael's spine at the disbelief in his brother's voice. "We've _missed you_, Sam," he said. "Heaven above, the only reason I flew down was because Jophiel summoned most of us last night to talk. She knows Dad is down here, scolded everyone but Azzie and me for being cowards. I haven't seen her so mad since the day you…" he trailed off. "Well, you know. Anyway. Mennie made the mistake of calling her a hypocrite since she won't leave Heaven until you've been home."

"Heaven above," God muttered. "You'd think Amenadiel would know better than to bait Jophiel."

"Did she smack him, by chance?" Lucifer managed to ask, despite his distrust.

Michael snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "Clawed him, actually. Looks like he pissed off a tiger or something."

"A lioness, more like," God said.

"Ironically enough," Michael agreed, a brief smirk gracing his lips for a moment before he remembered his plan. "I'm not gonna hurt or trick you, little brother. I truly only desire you to meet someone important to me."

Lucifer narrowed his gaze. "Don't tell me _you_ have a girlfriend?"

Michael chuckled. "A wife. You'll meet her too."

Lucifer's brow furrowed. "Too? Then who the hell am I meeting?"

Michael continued to smile, but didn't answer. Their father chuckled to himself.

"You'll be glad you went, if it helps," God offered. "And it won't take long."

With a greatly put upon sigh, Lucifer made his way around the bar to fetch the suit jacket draped atop his piano. "If you insist," he muttered.

Michael couldn't help the way his smile changed from playful to tender. "Thank you, Sam. Are your wings well enough to fly?"

Lucifer scowled. "Naturally."

"If you're certain," Michael said, bringing up both hands in a sign of peace. "Father, if you'd be so kind as to wait ten minutes or so, you're invited as well."

God's surprise was plain to see. "I am?"

Michael gave their father a weighted look that Lucifer couldn't make sense of. "Sam gets first honors. I _am_ trying to prove a point, after all."

"I hadn't realized how much the situation with Samael had fueled your original decision," God said calmly. "That's all."

It was Michael's turn to blink in surprise. "Right," he said. "Sorry. I sort of expected your curiosity to get the better of you."

God shook his head. "I've been tempted, but no, Michael. I've respected your privacy and decision. Aside from what you informed me the day we spoke of it, I know nothing."

Lucifer made an impatient, expectant noise in the back of his throat. "Would someone like to let me know what we're discussing at some point?"

Michael shook his head as if to clear it. "Yeah. Come on."

Lucifer used most of the energy he wasn't using to fly to hide how sore his wings were, and was almost too grateful for the shortness of their trip to be surprised by the duration. They were outside of L.A. proper, but definitely still in southern California.

The neighborhood they landed in was quiet, cozy, but still on the upscale side from what Lucifer could tell at a glance. He wondered what his brother - or this supposed sister-in-law he was apparently meeting - did for a living to maintain their comfortable luxury.

"How long have you been so close by?" Lucifer asked as he followed Michael past the neat and vibrant flowerbeds lining the path to a covered front porch.

"I met my wife properly nearly seven Earth years ago," said Michael. "But I was drawn down here to right an injustice and first laid eyes on her some time before that. She's a nurse. We've lived in this neighborhood for about three years. Legally married for nearly two."

Lucifer nodded and followed his brother into the quiet house, too distracted by his swimming thoughts to really take in the decor.

Michael led him down a hallway in which nearly every door was open, save one. They passed an office, what looked to be an art room, and a door leading to what appeared to be a mudroom (and beyond it, a sunroom or back patio) before Michael stopped at the closed door at the very end of the hall. Lucifer noted the right turn the hall made, and how save for the stairs after the bend, the hallway was a dead end.

Lucifer didn't notice the light he could sense on the other side until Michael paused to listen. His older brother smiled slightly, but said nothing as he quietly entered the room.

The room was mostly white. Accent stitching on the curtains in pastel pink and purple were the first bits of color he saw, then the even paler purple rug on the floor that his brother walked over as he made his way to the right side of the room. It took Lucifer's brain, and ringing ears, a second to catch up with the soothing noises his brother was making.

The room was so clearly Heaven-inspired that it hurt to stand in. But it was also clearly, at least to Lucifer, a mimicry of their old nurseries.

"Michael," he began, voice lower than the shushes his brother was making. "Brother, why am I here?"

When he didn't answer, Lucifer chanced his gaze to the right side of the room and watched his brother bend over the edge of a white crib with pink and purple-painted sigils going down each leg.

"Since when are you shy, Brother?" Michael asked, still keeping his voice quiet for their slowly waking companion. "Come here. You were always good with the little ones."

Lucifer swallowed thickly. _Not since Sariel. Not since I fell. And only because Jophie was always there making sure I never messed up._

Michael didn't press when Lucifer moved no closer, but picked up the writhing, quietly fussing little angel struggling to shake off sleep. He could sense his brother's somewhat concealed anxiety and tried to be patient while he got his bearings.

By the time the youngest's eyes were adjusted to the light and her yawning had ceased, Lucifer finally managed to ask, "What's her name?"

Michael smiled. "Well, her mother wanted something _normal_, but I wanted something specific and Heaven-related as well...thankfully, there was a very fitting compromise."

He stepped closer and shifted the baby from his shoulder to his hip so he could let Lucifer hold her if he wished. He dutifully ignored the tremble in his brother's fingers as he settled his niece against his chest for the first time.

Michael's so very very blue eyes were glittering with happiness and mischief when Lucifer glanced up at him.

"Samael, meet Samantha. Sammy, can you say hi to Uncle Samael?"

Samantha, with all her unrefined seven month old motor skills, tilted her head towards her holder and simply smiled.

Her eyes, and her light, were so very similar to Michael's, Lucifer noticed. And he was so very stunned by how she seemed to recognize his name, how happy she was to see him despite still not quite being fully awake, that he didn't notice his brother sending a quick text. Nor did he notice the quietly approaching footsteps. A soft knock on the doorframe finally caught him by surprise.

He could see some of Samantha's features in the woman at the door, except her coloring was completely different. Samantha had Michael's pale golden locks and clear blue eyes, but the slight curls came from her mother's honey brown hair. Her eye shape was the same. And, he guessed, their mouths would be the same once Samantha was older.

"Evangeline," Michael began, "I'm very happy to finally introduce you to the brother we named our daughter after. He's fashioned a second name for himself over the years, so I'll let him decide which one he'd rather you called him."

Lucifer shrugged, the weight of their gazes, and his niece, suddenly uncomfortable beyond what he could stand.

"Sam is fine," he muttered quickly, adjusting his hold on the _other _Sam. "Just..._why_? Why not name her after Jophiel or..._anyone else_?"

Michael shrugged. "A few reasons? I wanted her to be like you - confident, brave, a fighter, just. I wanted her to have a namesake she could look up to who would absolutely encourage those qualities in her without encouraging her to get herself in the wrong sort of trouble. I missed you. Thought it'd be funny. Been feeling a bit spiteful in Dad's direction for a few centuries over you…" He shrugged again and grinned. "Speaking of Dad, drop in whenever you're ready to finally meet your granddaughter. Sam's looks about ready to pass her off for a spell anyway."

Lucifer's confusion from their earlier conversation came flooding back with new awareness. "_Dad hasn't met her yet?"_

"Heavens no," said Evangeline, pipping up from the doorway as she moved and eased Samantha out of Lucifer's arms with a wink. "Neither of us felt it fair. The first celestial family member she should rightly meet was you. Michael was fine with Grandpa meeting her after, but I decided I didn't feel okay with that unless he'd mended things with you, that way we didn't have to tip toe around a bunch of tension and drama to let Sammy see her celestial family."

Lucifer could sense his father in the hall and Michael followed his shifted gaze.

"Come on in, Dad."

Lucifer was surprised when his father's attention was immediately on him instead of the baby.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Lucifer could only shrug. He was on autopilot and he didn't know how to process the events of the morning.

God frowned, but turned to his second oldest with a wryly lifted brow. "_A bit spiteful_, Michael?"

Michael's mischievous grin came back. "There have only been two sides of this whole mess until you told us what happened the other night. Team Dad and Team Samael. Everyone blames one or the other. We didn't know there was anywhere else to aim our grievances."

"Fair enough," God said, smiling slightly. "May I, Daughter?" he asked Evangeline.

She passed Samantha to him with a roll of her eyes. "You may. I wonder if she'll have trouble telling you and Samael apart though."

"I don't think so," God said wryly. "She can see light, like Samael. And though Samael's light _feels_ similar to mine, it is also very different in how it behaves _visually_."

Lucifer uncomfortably watched a warm smile grace his father's features as he shifted his full attention to Samantha. It was an expression he'd been on the receiving end of once upon a time.

Still, he summoned his patience, unwilling to offend Michael by dismissing himself early, and discretely texted Linda while impatiently waiting for a polite-ish chance to excuse himself.

Across town, Linda was waiting on a late patient to show up by playing a game on her phone, and chided herself for being surprised to get a text from Lucifer so soon.

_Another sibling visited. I'm drowning._

Linda sighed, a fissure of pain for her friend threading through her heart. _I sincerely hope you mean you're figuratively drowning. I had a cancellation this evening if you want to come see me at 7ish. Or do you need an emergency session?_

When he didn't respond right away, she started to worry if he'd actually _texted_ her when _literally drowning._

_I think I can try to cope until then._ He finally replied.

_Call me if you can't._

She hoped Chloe would call him into the station and help distract him from whatever was bothering him. Just as much as she hoped whatever emotional turmoil he needed her for was positive and not more negativity.

But she wouldn't know for sure until later.

It wasn't until after her tardy client left that God's voice gently floated into her mind.

_Forgive my intrusion, Doctor, but did Samael truly reach out to you earlier or is he attempting to appease me by saying so?_

She shook her head, chewing the of the pen she'd just finished her post-session notes with. "He's coming to see me later, last I checked. Honesty is kind of his thing."

_He hasn't been himself today, is all. I was more worried he'd planned on following through but perhaps hadn't done so yet._

Linda frowned to herself. "I'm not sure if it's fair of me to ask what happened before his session or not. But, in the very likely scenario that Lucifer's perception is severely warped or tainted by his past trauma, can I get a second version of the events from you?"

_Of course._

"Thanks."

She sighed when silence resumed in the office, but tried to shake off her worry by standing. A fresh cup of coffee before her next session would help, surely.

Unfortunately for Lucifer, Chloe had no field work to distract him with. Her text assuring him that he could focus on spending time with his dad while she did boring paperwork would've hit a much more comforting mark had the morning not been interrupted by Michael. As things stood, Lucifer couldn't even bring himself to clue her in to his internal turmoil.

"You need a distraction," God murmured from the sofa, watching his son fidget and reorganize the already organized bar back at the penthouse. "Or...you could talk to me. Maybe that'll make it easier to talk to your friend this evening?"

Lucifer stilled behind the bar, save for the muscles jumping and twitching in his arms, begging him to keep up with his compulsive self-soothing tactics. "I don't know where to begin," he ground out carefully.

"Find the root," God encouraged. "What's the source of the discomfort? You're organizing, so _something_ feels out of place. Help me give you clarity."

Several heavy beats followed, during which the tense, jumping muscles in Lucifer's arms spread their influence to his jaw and shoulders. "Why isn't her name Josephine?" He managed.

"Because Michael did not wish to name her after Jophiel," said God. "He gave you his reasons himself when you asked."

The shaking worsened, despite Lucifer bracing himself against the bar as he stared through its surface. "_Why not?"_

God paused, his frown deepening with worry. "Why didn't he wish to name her after Jophiel?"

"After _anyone else_," Lucifer hissed.

"Because he lost one of his dearest brothers, and since he couldn't get you back, he decided he wanted another Sam in his life. On his own terms. In a situation where he could prevent losing them. Where he had control," God said quietly. "He controls everything from where she is to who she's met, since she's young enough for him to not feel guilty by doing so. But until I told him we were mending things, he fully intended to keep her to himself until he eventually caved and sought you out… You were the first celestial to meet her for many reasons, Samael."

"I don't understand," Lucifer said quietly. His grip on the counter hadn't loosened, but he was trying very hard not to crack the marble.

God's concern grew. "You need your sister," he realized sadly.

Lucifer tensed further. "I'm not going up there. I...I'm not ready."

"I know," God soothed. "Perhaps we'll consult Linda on how to approach the situation."

Lucifer desperately tried to ignore and quell the burning in his eyes.

He couldn't go up. And if he knew her as well as he remembered her, he knew Jophiel wouldn't come down until he guided her to Earth himself.

"Make her come down." The words left his mouth before he could stop them, tight and angry and trembling.

"She'd already be here if I could, Samael," God said sadly. "Jophiel has wanted little to do with me since you fell. She rarely acknowledges any of my attempts to reach out to her."

Lucifer violently shoved himself back from the counter and started pacing behind the bar. His breathing stuttered, despite his attempts to control it.

"Tell me how to help, Little Star," God begged. "What can I do?"

The pain coursing through Lucifer's chest began to worsen, until it burned its way up to his eyes.

He just wanted this whole mess to be over one way or another. He hadn't been upset this frequently since his fall and he hadn't missed the sensation.

"Linda," he said through clenched teeth. "Call Linda."

He hadn't wanted to accept her offer for an emergency session, but he couldn't breathe.

He needed Jophiel, but the thought of going to Heaven paralyzed him.

Linda was the closest thing to a rock he had. She could piece together his thoughts for him. Put things into words that he couldn't vocalize.

The world was quieter with his eyes shut. Part of him wondered if his father planned to call Linda or not. Maybe he'd reached out to her telepathically instead, which would explain the silence.

He didn't register the feeling of pacing dulling to an almost out of reach sense of swaying until the presence of another familiar light came into his awareness.

Then everything crashed down around him.

Ears ringing, muscles stiff, head pounding, lungs burning, voices whispering.

"Father, please. She insisted."

"If Jophiel wants a say in her brother's recovery she can fly down here herself and tend to him." His father's voice was colder than Lucifer had heard it since his fall.

"She chose to suffer with him. Her sacrifices up until now, in her opinion, would mean nothing if she flew down before he'd recovered enough to come home himself. But we can ease his pain without causing more fighting or guilting Jophiel into abandoning her pledge. Please. Let me help him."

His eyelids were too heavy, but with effort, he could move his lips. "Raphael?"

A wing draped over his shoulders, gentle and warm. "You're alright, little brother. Just breathe. The anxiety and stress got to you for a spell, but you're sitting on the floor against the sofa. Dad summoned a few of your friends while you were out of it. He tried to send some of us to coerce our dear sister to end her self-isolation but that didn't go too well…"

Raphael's voice was soothing as he unhurriedly and unwittingly grounded Samael back to the present.

"She's making a present for you, she told me," Raphael continued. "Well, making one and sending another. She's got a whole room full of gifts she's saved for you over the millennia, you know. I think she plans to Hansel and Gretel you home with them or something."

Lucifer managed to exhale an almost laugh, leaning towards Raphael. Another wing wrapped around him as he rested his head against fabric. He could feel the light pressure of Raphael's cheek on his hair.

"We've missed you, Cherub," Raphael said quietly. "I know it's hard to understand right now, but it's true. And we've all expressed it differently. Michael's kept Dad at a distance since he found Eva. Mennie tried to fill the hero worship void you left behind - unsuccessfully, as I'm sure you've noticed. Gabe and Azzie just do their duties and stick to themselves, but they're quieter than they ever were before you were gone. Sariel picks and wins every fight with every sibling still stupid enough to tarnish your name where she can hear it. I've tried to keep the peace where I could but Jophiel's isolation and bitterness causes a lot of tension with her, Mike, and Mennie. So she really only sees me or Sariel unless someone needs something. Even then, she keeps to herself. Hidden off in the forests, surrounded by a barrier she made that keeps everyone out and actually hurts Dad if he gets too close… I know we never reached out to you directly but we were just as afraid that you'd shun us as you were that we'd shun you. Jo said to leave you alone and let you find your happiness again, so we did."

"She's not coming." Lucifer murmured.

A faint clatter and thump came from somewhere in front of them.

"No," said Raphael. "But I think her apology just arrived."

His eyes felt like sandpaper when they finally opened, and he was thankfully for the darkness. Only the warm ambient lighting was switched on, and no light spilled in from the balcony. The mid-afternoon sun that had been streaming in when his eyes closed was now the muted ambient lighting of L.A. nightlife.

On the coffee table, a single steaming teacup sat beside a neatly folded bundle of fabric.

Raphael's wings loosened around Lucifer just enough for him to lean forward and hold out both items.

Lucifer gingerly took the teacup and held it in both hands, content to stay curled up, and rested his arms against his knees.

As Raphael moved to put the bundle back, two letters slipped out and landed in front of them. One addressed to himself and the other to Samael.

Raphael gave Samael his note before opening the one addressed to himself, unsurprised to find his sister's handwriting on the inside as well.

_Raphael,_

_I don't give a damn what Dad says. If you can make his turmoil less intense, even only on severe occasions, then quit letting Dad's fears control __you_ _and help Samael._

_It's your right as his brother to aid him if you wish. He got here trying to secure all of us free will. _

_Use yours._

Though he agreed with his sister, he still avoided his father's gaze when Samael took a sip of tea and Raphael carefully used his abilities to help his brother relax. It took several moments, and half the cup of tea, but Samael did eventually lean into his shoulder more heavily. His breathing became smoother as his shaking lessened, though he didn't fall asleep.

Raphael remembered holding Samael similarly after particularly unhappy fights with their father prior to his fall, and though he hated to see any of his siblings in pain, he'd missed being able to soothe the bright ball of stress he called a brother.

"May I tell Michael you're feeling better?" he asked.

Lucifer nodded. "Is he doing his noble guilty nonsense?"

"Of course." Raphael smiled. "He thinks he pushed you too far. But it's more complicated than that. I think you were ready to meet our niece, just unprepared for what sort of emotional turmoil the situation would stir up."

Lucifer sighed. "Have someone with energy go smack him for me," he muttered.

Raphael chuckled. "Samantha spit up all over him after Eva fed her because his anxiety was getting to her. I think that's punishment enough for his guilt."

A smile twitched at Lucifer's lips. "Proactive little thing. I like her."

"He named her well," Raphael agreed pointedly.

Raphael could sense the subtle change in his brother before the question came. "Did he let you meet her, at least?"

Raphael snorted. "No, Samael. I didn't get to hold her or see her in person until today. But I was allowed to watch over her from home and meet our sister in law. Jophiel made the curtains and a few of the other blankets and things in the nursery. I don't think he told Amenadiel until today. Azzie and Gabriel knew. Sariel's painting a heavenscape for the nursery."

Lucifer paused mid-sip and moved to look at his brother properly. "She still paints?"

Raphael's calm surprise was clear in his eyes, less vibrantly blue than Michael's, but almost the same. "Of course she does. She's the moodiest little artist in the family after you, light maker."

Lucifer glowered at his tea, thinking of the sister who brewed it. "Jophiel's moody and artistic." He grumbled.

"Spiteful isn't the same as having more emotional capacity than you can physically handle," Raphael said gently. "Jophiel taps into what already exists and amplifies it. You and Sariel create immeasurable creations from the void. She paints things that remind me of your ideas for animals when you were little."

Lucifer's annoyance fizzled into disappointment. "I want to see them," he said. "I want to go home."

"You said you weren't ready," God said from across the room. "And we either need to keep you out of sight first or hold a very large family meeting that you do not have the energy for at present, Little Star."

"I'm not," Lucifer said. He finished his tea, the cup vanishing from his hand a moment later. Presumably back to its owner. "I just wish I was."

"Be patient with yourself," Raphael said. "None of us want you in any more pain than necessary. And we certainly don't want another civil war to break out because Dad hasn't had a chance to talk to everyone yet."

With a sigh, Lucifer resumed leaning heavily into Raphael's side, too exhausted to be stubborn and pretend he wasn't suddenly overwhelmed by how much he missed this particular sibling's gentle steadiness.

"Are you going to read your letter?" Raphael asked.

"It's a poem," Lucifer muttered. "I'm just too out of it to read it without reading it."

Raphael paused mid-reach for the note Samael was holding between his knees and aimed his confusion at their father, who had a perplexed stare aimed at Samael.

"Father…" Raphael began slowly. "His abilities were still maturing, albeit they'd slowed their evolution immensely, when the fighting started, right?"

God nodded pensively. "When Samael and I started arguing, the growth and changes in his abilities slowed or halted. By the time the fight broke out, his omnipotence-mimicking abilities were no longer present."

"All of his abilities after making stars were rooted in empathy or his existing light manipulation abilities, not omnipotence," said Raphael. "He had psychic ties to all of the other Archs, minus Ari and Cass. He could sense emotions."

God gave a half shrug. "That's how his gifts appeared to behave at first, yes. He had connections to all of my Archs, period. He simply didn't often think of Ariel and Cassiel, nor did he ever need to worry about them. He could sense emotions by reading the behavior of the light of siblings he'd studied well, but also just _knew_ more often than not. If he noticed a sibling in distress and decided to intervene, he always knew how to make them open up or how to cheer them up again. He dreamed past and future events connected to himself, but he would often see events he hadn't been present for at the time."

"But...how?" Raphael asked. "Everyone's gifts are unique. None of us have your gifts in full. Only a few of us possess any degree of foresight, and it's sorely limited."

Again, God nodded. "His gift is unique, Raphael, in that your brother can do the one thing I still cannot: Make light independent of his own. And Samael is the only angel with a gift I cannot replicate if I so choose."

Bewildered, Raphael returned his attention to Samael's letter from their sister:

_Twinkle twinkle, Little Star_

_Oh I've wondered how you are_

_Lost and fallen on your own_

_I dream of just how much you've grown_

_Little Brother, lost, now found_

_Still suffering down on the ground_

_Far away from home you fell_

'_Til you dared to rise from Hell_

_Twinkle twinkle, Little Star_

_Don't stop now, you're not that far_

_Your journey home is almost done_

_Remember: You're not on the run_

_And waiting for you, quiet and true_

_A sister who never stopped loving you_

_So glitter, gleam, and shine away_

_Little Morning Star, light your way_

Raphael quietly read the note to Samael, who sighed in heavy resignation and grumbled under his breath about how much less annoying their siblings were in his memories compared to reality. With a quiet chuckle, Raphael gave his little brother a comforting squeeze.

"You need to rest," he said. "May father and I explain the day's events to your friends?"

"Which friends?" Lucifer muttered, having been far too tired to look around the room upon waking, and more fatigued still as time went on. He had a sinking suspicion the tea from his sister contained a very light sedative. One that wouldn't have impacted him at all if his strength wasn't so depleted.

"The doctor and the detective," God answered. "Mazikeen attempted to invite herself. I did not feel her presence would actually benefit you in such a state. Not that I trust the loyalty of a troubled, wayward demoness when her master isn't at his best."

"Dad hates Maze," Lucifer whispered to his brother.

"Oh. I noticed," Raphael chuckled.

Lucifer inhaled deeply as a gentle pressure built in his being and caused him to lean more heavily into Raphael's side.

"You can show them," he managed to murmur before everything became too heavy to move.

Raphael muted the fissure of frustration his brother was clinging to in an attempt to fight his exhaustion for a little longer.

God dissolved their visual surroundings for the occupants of the penthouse, allowing the humans to see the mornings' events play out around them with their own eyes.

"That's a handy trick," Linda said.

"It'd make it a hell of a lot easier to solve murders…" Chloe agreed half-heartedly. Her attention shifted back and forth between the Lucifer from this morning to the slumbering, broken man her partner had been reduced to.

She knew he had to have some serious drama in his past, even before she knew he wasn't kidding about the angel-devil thing, but in hindsight, she was starting to realize exactly how much drama Lucifer had kept buried under sly remarks and flirty smiles for years. If not the millennia that must've past before he'd even met her.

It bothered her to see him so uncomfortable in his own skin. Lucifer was loud and cheerful. Moody, but a bright ball of energy. Honorable. He always radiated an untouchable confidence that had perplexed and amazed her until it clicked that _of course he did_. He was literally _God's son_. A fallen angel walking amongst men. How could he be anything but overconfident in their eyes?

But not since their showdown with "Cain". Lucifer hadn't started to bounce back from starting to reconcile with his father yet, in part, Chloe thought, because he couldn't get his footing without another celestial showing up to knock him off balance again.

She wondered just how many siblings he had. Worried how long his current state would get drawn out before he got a chance to recuperate properly.

"That depends on what choices he makes," God said, meeting her surprised look evenly when she glanced in his direction. "If he pushes himself to return to Heaven sooner than he ought, this could all go a number of ways. If he waits, there's a series of alternate possibilities there as well. Unfortunately, he will still suffer some no matter what he does. Though I believe his suffering will be worse the longer he's separated from Jophiel."

"That's his oldest sister, right?" asked Linda. "Your first daughter?"

"First yes," answered God. "Though there's technically another daughter older than her."

At the befuddled expressions both mortal women gave him, God explained further. "Not all of my children were born linearly in regards to time. Goddess and I wanted more children, but I didn't want to have children infinitely and be unable to devote as much attention to my elder offspring as time went on. Nevermind neglect the youngers because their older siblings needed me. So instead, Goddess and I would temporarily jump to parallel universes I carved out for us. We'd stay in that copy of Heaven to raise more children, then carefully merge those worlds together when we returned to the original timeline so our children would have their own pieces of childhood without making it impossible for each 'generation' to connect to the other. As it happens, children from each timeline we created were still the 'younger' siblings by order of birth, regardless of when they were born in relation to time, so the jealousy and generational divides were still somewhat present. My oldest children tend to be seen as the overall favorites. The youngers stick to themselves. Eventually, the children named their groups. Some of the names are familiar to humans, like Archangels. Archs are my first children - Samael's generation."

"Which consists of most of his social cluster?" Linda guessed.

"All of it," God agreed. "There's generational cross-over as you get into other generations."

"How many kids did you have each generation?" Chloe asked, unable to fathom the possible number of siblings Lucifer could have when time and universe manipulation was thrown into the mix.

God only shrugged. "However many made my wife happy at the time. It varies. Sometimes she was doing well and content with our family. Other times, she'd start behaving abnormally again and the only thing that made her happy was having another baby. So we'd sidestep into another universe until she was content again. Of my Archs, there were twelve: Amenadiel, Michael and Raphael, Jophiel, Cassiel and Ariel, Samael and Azazel, Gabriel, Azrael, Uriel, and Sariel. Azazel died in the battle where Samael fell, and never truly fit in with the family, plus Uriel's unfortunate demise, so they're now ten in number."

"Jesus," Linda muttered.

"One of Samael's younger brothers trying to desperately gain my attention, actually," God said. "Ramiel. One of the tricksters of the family."

"So Jesus, while a real person, was an angel playing a prank?" Chloe asked.

God simply shrugged again. "You've met some of my children. They're not all as clever as I would've liked them to be."

Raphael quietly chuckled to himself. "Sam always said what our siblings lacked in wit they made up for in the ability to make fools of themselves."

God breathed a long-suffering sigh. "Without question," he agreed.

The two humans exchanged a slightly amused glance.

"So…" Linda began, "How do we help Lucifer take the path of least resistance here? What can we do to help him feel like he's ready to visit Heaven and see his sister? And why are they so close in the first place?"

God and Raphael shared a knowing smile.

"Samael did say I could show you before he fell asleep," God said. "I doubt he intended for me to share the past with you both, but it _is_ relevant to your understanding this afternoon's situation…"

Raphael shook his head. "He's gonna throw a fit."

"I like to think that's why your sister put a sedative in his tea," God parried, turning his attention back to Linda and Chloe. "How about I just show you how and why Lucifer and Jophiel are so close?"

The room's surroundings faded from the penthouse once again, this time to a much brighter location. It took a few seconds for Linda and Chloe to realize the new room they could see was another nursery, only a much bigger baby angel was in the crib before them.

A mop of dark hair sat atop a sweetly sleeping face, and one of the baby's bright, pearlescent wings was folded over his curled up limbs as he slept.

Chloe's heart squeezed as she sucked in a quiet breath. At the same time, the nursery door quietly opened as a dark-haired girl slipped into the room and checked on both babies inside.

The one with brighter wings opened his eyes when she neared and smiled sleepily.

"He's always adored Jophiel," God said quietly, as he watched his daughter, twelve at the time, lift her toddler brother from his crib. "And she adored him in return."

* * *

**Now FFN is caught up to AO3 again. No idea when Chapter 6 will be done. I'm baby-stepping my way back into this whole writing thing again. But I missed it and I do love this fic dearly so hopefully sooner than later. Thanks for reading!**


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